


Howl

by TazzyJan



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: M/M, Violence, Werewolves, beastiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TazzyJan/pseuds/TazzyJan
Summary: Aramis is a werewolf.  He gets captured by a surprising enemy.





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> The beastiality warning is for sex between a man and a half-turned werewolf.

Howl

Aramis groaned as his consciousness began to return. He blinked his eyes open slowly but otherwise did not move, not wanting to alert his captors that he was awake. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he clearly recalled the musket ball that had knocked him from his horse. The musket ball that was at least partially silver if the agony still coursing through his entire arm was anything to go by. 

He had no idea how the people who had taken him knew what he was. He was not known in this area, had been through here only once before, in fact. Yet, there was no mistaking that the shot had been meant for him and it had clearly been meant to subdue rather than kill. For if they had wanted him dead, they could have finished him off at any time. No, they wanted him alive which never tended to bode well for his kind.

"Well, well, looks like the dog's finally awake," a man in a rough leather coat said as he approached the cage Aramis was in. 

Seeing that his ruse was up, Aramis sat up slowly, mindful of both his injuries and the fact that he was currently naked, all of his clothes having been stripped from him while he was unconscious. Now, he found himself in a cage just big enough for him to kneel in if he hunched over slightly. It was about three feet square, meaning he could reach out and grasp the bars on either side if he sat in the middle. As prisons went, it left much to be desired. 

"What's wrong, mutt, cat got your tongue?" The man guffawed, amused by his own wit.

Aramis merely glared at him, refusing to respond. They would tell him why he was here soon enough. Braggarts never could resist boasting about their grand plans. All he had to do was wait. He only hoped the grand plan this time didn't include skinning him for his pelt. It was a horrific way to go, especially for a Were. Aramis had seen the aftermath of such an atrocity before and the sheer brutality of it had sickened even his hardened stomach.

It was why the skin Athos kept under his chair always had such an effect on him. While he, himself, had been the one to kill the Were, Athos had taken the pelt and kept it as a reminder of what would happen should he ever forget himself and lose control. It was also Athos' way of making sure Aramis never forgot his place. And when he did, Athos was quite adept at using it to remind him.

"You will have to forgive Aramis. He can be rather stubborn when he's angry," a familiar voice said as a man stepped out of the shadows.

"Marsac?" Aramis gasped in disbelief. This could not be right. Marsac could not be here, could not be helping these men. Marsac had been his friend. Marsac had been his...his handler for lack of a better term. He had saved him in Savoy. Granted, he had abandoned him there as well, but he had saved him first. The Spanish, with their silver-tipped weapons, would have killed him for certain if Marsac had not drug him away. So why was he here now, helping to capture and imprison him?

"Yes, old friend. It is me," Marsac said. "Surprised to see me?"

"Yes," Aramis said honestly. "What are you doing here? Are you helping these men?"

"Oh yes," Marsac replied. "We are on a quest, you see."

"A quest," Aramis repeated.

Marsac nodded. "To rid the world of the abomination of your kind. I thought we might start with you."

"You can't be serious," Aramis said, staring at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Really? Why not?" Marsac asked. "You are a curse upon mankind. You are evil. It is our duty as Godly men to seek out your kind and destroy you."

"We were friends," Aramis said softly.

"I was misled," Marsac spat. "That deceiver, Treville, convinced me you were human when you are really a demon in the guise of a man. You are a dog. A slathering, panting, rabid dog and we shall put you down like one."

"You are mad," Aramis said, pulling back from the bars in an attempt to get as far away from Marsac as possible.

"Perhaps," Marsac admitted. "But at least I am still a man. Unlike you, dog. Now, I am going to shackle and collar you and you are going to let me. If you try anything, these men will shoot you again. And yes, their muskets are loaded with silver. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes," Aramis snarled. Everything inside of him was screaming to lunge at Marsac and rip out his throat the second he got close enough but he held himself in check. He knew it would do no good. They would only shoot him again and he would wake up shackled and collared anyway. It would be best to save his energy and wait for them to slip up.

He thought he really should have known the shackles and collar would be laced with silver. What good would they have done his captors otherwise? Leather, or even metal, he could have snapped if he tried hard enough. Silver, however, was another story. Even just touching him, the metal sapped his strength, weakening him. While just touching his skin could not kill him, it could keep him weakened to the point where he could not fight, where he could not even run if given the chance. 

He tried not to flinch when Marsac cut away the leather collar around his throat. Athos' had put that there, a symbol of the bond between them. It represented Athos' commitment as his Alpha and Aramis acceptance of his dominance in every aspect of his life, even though he was a human. He had not taken it off since Athos had put it on him two years ago. To have it taken from him now, by this man, was the greatest of insults and Aramis could not hold back the growl from deep in his chest.

"Something wrong, mutt?" Marsac sneered. "Does your master know you slipped your leash? Tell me, are you a good dog? Do you curl up at his feet at night? Do you heel for him? Do you shove your ass in the air like a bitch and whine until he mounts you?"

Aramis clamped his mouth shut, refusing to reply. He would not let Marsac goad him into a fight. It would only end badly for him, he knew that. Instead, he concentrated on Athos, on staying in control. Not that he needed to worry about losing control of himself at the moment. The silver in the collar and shackles prevented him from transforming, just as Marsac knew they would.

Once he was restrained and unable to fight back, Marsac visited a final indignity on him and shoved a gag in his mouth, tying it tightly around his head so that it cut into the sides of Aramis' mouth. It tasted of foul sweat and he tried not to think of where it might have come from as the other man shoved him forward to land painfully on his shoulder and the side of his face.

They left him alone then and Aramis carefully maneuvered himself up and onto his knees, the cold stone digging into them painfully. His face hurt but he knew it wasn't serious. If not for the silver binding him, it would already be healed. His shoulder, even though the ball had been at least partially silver was mostly healed since they had dug it out prior to putting the collar and manacles on him. Had they left it in him, he would be in serious trouble, the silver in the ball slowly poisoning him. 

Apparently, that was not to be his fate. These maniacs had something else in mind. Something much worse, he feared. Fanatics such as these always preferred the more showy executions, wanting to prove a point, prove their superiority. He may well end up skinned after all, and alive at that, knowing his luck. If that was to be his fate, he prayed Athos never found his body. Better for his Alpha to never know what had become of him than to find him like that. 

All too soon, Aramis found his solitude broken as Marsac returned followed by three other men. He watched as they gathered round his cage, eying them nervously when they each drew a long dagger from their belt. He could smell the silver radiating off of Marsac's blade and cringed. He told himself to be grateful Marsac was the only one carrying silver. His would be the only blade he truly had to be wary of. While the others would certainly hurt, they couldn't kill him. Marsac's however, was another story.

"You should get comfortable," Marsac said as he shoved his dagger into the cage at Aramis. "You're going to be here for a while."

Aramis made an inquisitive sound, hoping to get him to talk, to tell him what their plan was at least, while still keeping an eye on the dagger in his hand. His eyes fixed on Marsac, he missed the man behind him moving closer until he felt the hot press of a blade into his shoulder. He bit off a scream when the dagger just missed the barely healed musket wound, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were hurting him. 

"So stoic," Marsac tsked. He stabbed his blade in again, this time catching Aramis on the face and leaving a shallow cut. "Do you want to know why we're keeping you alive? The Marquis fancies himself a hunter of some renown. He's never hunted one of your kind before, though. He plans to wait until the full moon then let you loose so he can hunt you down like the animal you are."

Aramis glared at his friend, not believing what the man was saying. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to help hunt him down like he was no better than a beast? This was not the man he had known so many years ago. This was a madman.

"Do you know what he plans to do once he's run you to ground?" Marsac continued gleefully. He nodded to the men with him and two of them stabbed into he cage at once, slicing Aramis deeply on both sides. Before he could react, Marsac shoved his dagger in through the bars and slashed at him, cutting a deep gouge in his arm.

"After he's run you to ground, after he's left you lying in the dirt bloodied and beaten, then he will have you strung up in the courtyard for all to see and he will allow me to skin you while you still draw breath. Will you scream then, dog? Will you howl for you master? Or will you beg for mercy?"

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Aramis wasn't sure how long they left him alone in his tiny prison after that. He tried to settle as comfortably as he could, keeping as much of his weight off of his knees as he was able. He could feel his legs stiffening from the combination of the constricted position and the cold but there was little he could do about it. He did not have enough room to stretch his legs out. In fact, he could not even get them out from beneath him completely. 

"Feeding time, mutt," Aramis heard one of the men call out as he came toward his cage. He saw a bowl in his hand but he didn't need to see inside of it to know what he was bringing him. He could smell the scent of blood and raw meat from where he was and turned his face away. He was not an animal. He would not allow them to treat him as one.

"Wouldn't turn my nose up at it if I was you. You'll not be getting anything else." He pushed the bowl toward Aramis again and shrugged when he turned his face away once more. "Suit yourself."

Aramis watched him go, growling softly under his breath as he did. He was hungry, there was no denying that, but he would not be reduced to an animal, eating raw meat. He would starve first. Though he had a feeling he might just die of thirst before he actually starved to death. He doubted if his defiance was going to make them inclined to give him any water. He wasn't altogether sure he wanted them to, anyway, considering how they might attempt to do so.

Eventually, Aramis grew tired enough to manage to fall asleep in the tiny cage. He didn't have enough room to lay down, instead having to content himself with leaning back against the bars. He was freezing, the cold, stone floor having leeched any warmth from him long ago. Normally, his physiology would allow him to maintain a certain level of body heat, but again the silver shackling him was hampering it. 

In the end, he managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was rudely awakened by the sound of Marsac and his men once more entering the room. He did not miss the long, silver daggers that all four men carried this time. He knew they were not going to kill him, they needed him for their hunt, after all, but they could do a great deal of damage without killing him and even if they went too far, all Marsac had to do was remove the silver binding him long enough for him to heal. 

"Sleep well?" Marsac asked as he came up next to the cage. 

Aramis glared at him, refusing to even attempt to answer with the gag in his mouth. He knew it was what the man wanted, to see him debase himself in such a way. Aramis would not give him the satisfaction.

"Raul tells me you refused to eat last night," Marsac continued. "That's awfully ungrateful of you. Perhaps we need to beat some manners into you. Show you how a good dog is supposed to behave."

The other men surrounded the cage at Marsac's nod, their daggers held ready. Marsac smiled at his friend, the madness gleaming in his eyes. "One more chance," he said. "Are you certain you won't eat your food?"

Aramis did not reply. Instead, he braced himself for the pain he knew was about to come. A moment later, one of the men struck out and a line of agony seared across his chest just above his left nipple. He bit down hard on the gag in his mouth, refusing to utter a sound.

That, it seemed, was what Marsac was waiting for. Suddenly, they all began to attack him, stabbing and slashing at him over and over. He felt their blades slice into his flesh and stab into him, embedding into his arms and sides and legs.

Unable to fight back or even protect himself, Aramis did the only thing he could and curled forward trying to shield his vulnerable chest and belly. He knew they did not mean to kill him but a slip of the knife could see him dead whether they intended to or not and there were some things even his healing could not overcome. 

With his face pressed down and into his own body, he allowed himself to let a few quiet noises escape when the pain became too much. When one of their knives, Marsac's he was almost certain, bit into his leg nearly to the bone, he could not hold back a low moan of pain. Not only could he feel the pain of the blade itself, but the silver burned like acid in the wound and he fought not to writhe against it. 

After what seemed like hours, they finally stopped. Aramis was curled down over his legs in the cage, his face pressed nearly to the floor as he sought a way to escape the incessant pain. Blood ran freely down his body from dozens of cuts and gashes and he was unable to stop shaking. 

Without warning, a hand shot through the bars and grabbed him by the hair. It jerked his head back, forcing him up onto his knees fully again. Blinking, he found himself staring into Marsac's furious eyes. Before he could even register what was happening, Marsac drew back and spit in his face, smirking at the look of revulsion that crossed Aramis' face.

"Bad dog," Marsac said as he slammed Aramis' head into the metal bars on the side of the cage, leaving him bleeding and barely conscious.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Athos paced back and forth in his rooms. Aramis was supposed to be gone for two days. A simple mission - deliver some letters and return. Now, he was a day overdue and Athos was furious. He had told him no stops along the way, to go straight there and back. Apparently, his lover had not listened. When Athos got his hands on him, there would be hell to pay.

Treville looked to him to keep a leash on Aramis. If he didn't, if he lost control of him, then Treville would either have to find someone to take his place, which neither he nor Aramis would countenance, or Aramis would have to be... 

Athos shied away from that thought angrily. He would not allow Aramis to endanger himself like this. Just as he would not allow Treville to assign someone else to be Aramis' handler. For they may have started out that way, with Athos as no more than his brother stepping up to fill the suddenly vacant position of Aramis' handler, but they had not remained that way for long. No, Athos was a great deal more to Aramis than simply his handler and Aramis was much more to Athos than a mere duty placed upon him by their Captain. 

It was not easy being one of the only two humans who knew of Aramis, of what he was. Athos, himself, had not found out until Savoy, until Aramis had been injured and his handler, Marsac, had abandoned him in the snowy forest. Aramis had been nearly catatonic from the combination of his injuries and the abandonment and Treville had been scared they were going to lose him. It was because of that, that he had taken Athos aside and told him of Aramis' secret. 

Athos had agreed to take Marsac's place at once, knowing there was nothing he would not do for one of his brothers. His only concern had been about why Aramis had not confided in them himself. Treville had only told him that he had been bitten as a boy and had witnessed a great deal of prejudice toward lycanthropes. It was because of this that Aramis was wary of letting anyone, even his beloved brothers, know the truth of his existence.

In the beginning, Athos had thought to do as Marsac had and act as Aramis' handler only. It became clear quite quickly that what Aramis needed was something else. Something more. What Aramis needed was an Alpha to guide him and set the rules and boundaries of his behavior, of his very life. Athos had been taken aback when he had realized what it was that Aramis truly needed from him. However, when he had watched the light go out in Aramis' eyes at his reaction, he understood what he had to do. Because seeing that light dim had not just saddened him as it would have had it been Porthos or d'Artagnan. Seeing that light dim in those dark, expressive eyes had _hurt_. And that told Athos everything he needed to know. 

Now, his werewolf was a day overdue from what should have been a simple ride through the countryside. This meant he had either deliberately disobeyed his Alpha and lost track of time or... Or, it meant that his wolf had run into some kind of trouble. That thought made Athos frown. Aramis was not known in that area as far as he knew, but that did not mean anything. Werewolves might be hardier than humans and damn difficult to kill if you weren't packing silver, but they were not indestructible. The pelt under Athos' chair gave mute testimony to that.

The more he thought about it, the more certain Athos became that something had gone wrong. Even if Aramis had decided to stage a little bit of a rebellion, he would not have done so to this degree. He might have been late, but not over a day. He would not have gone so far as to make him look bad in front of the Captain. He would not have made him worry.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Aramis was not sure how much time had passed. His days consisted of being beaten and taunted through the cage, having raw meat thrust under his nose, and being ignored for hours on end to sit hunched and cramped in the too small cage, shivering in the cold and damp. They had laughed at him when he had soiled himself in the cage, unable to hold his bladder after so long confined. He had felt hot shame color his cheeks and vowed to himself that he would make these bastards pay for every single indignity they visited upon him. 

The worst, of course, was Marsac. His one-time friend taunted him relentlessly, taking great delight in telling him what all the Marquis had in store for him, especially the part he would get to play. It seemed he was looking forward to skinning one of his kind alive. Aramis had to wonder what else the man might have in store for him before the night of the full moon. It was clear that he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Aramis himself. He wondered if he would truly make it until the night of the hunt or if Marsac's madness would get the better of him and he would simply kill him outright. 

As much as Aramis would prefer to go out fighting, to at least have a chance at escape, he knew it was futile. The Marquis would have plenty of men to ensure that he did not get away. Besides which, Aramis doubted if he would be in any condition to put up much of a fight anyway. No, the best thing for him would be for Marsac to lose his temper and simply kill him. At least then Athos would be spared the horror of coming upon his skinned carcass. 

The thought of his Alpha sent a pang of longing through Aramis that nearly made him keen. It was only through sheer willpower that he managed to hold it back. Even unable to transform, he still wanted to howl, instinctively seeking to call his Alpha to him, even though he knew it was useless. Athos was nowhere near and even if he was, Aramis could not call to him. Not shackled and gagged as he was. 

His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of footsteps. He could tell it was Marsac by the sounds of his tread as well as the smell of his sweat. He wanted to cringe away, his body one giant aching mass as it was, but he would not give him the satisfaction. Instead, he went still and waited.

"You know, mutt, it occurred to me that I never asked you a very important question," Marsac said as he walked up and leaned against the side of the cage. He reached in and all but tore the gag from Aramis’ mouth. "I mean, that collar you had around your neck tells me you had a new handler. I'm wondering who it is. After all, I was your handler for three years and you never let me collar you."

Aramis glared at Marsac, suddenly filled with fury. How dare he even suggest that what they had shared was anywhere close to what he had with Athos? Marsac had been his handler. Nothing more. He was someone to help him keep control and be prepared to put him down should the need ever arise. Athos was... Athos was everything to Aramis. 

Athos was Aramis' Alpha but it was by choice not by force as many bindings were. Athos had recognized the need in Aramis as well as the desire to have that need fulfilled by Athos and he had not shied away from it. In return, Aramis had pledged his complete and utter submission to Athos in every aspect of his life, from what he ate for breakfast in the morning to what missions he went on to who he fucked. Most of the time, Athos allowed Aramis to control his own life but both men knew that Aramis would gladly cede that control to Athos without hesitation if Athos but asked for it.

Most did not even know that a human could be an Alpha. Those that knew of werewolves assumed that only another werewolf could be dominant enough to keep one of their kind in check. Granted, it did take one with an exceptionally strong will but there were some few humans who fit the bill. Athos de la Fere was most certainly one of them. Aramis had to ask himself, though, if it would have made a difference. He'd had feelings for Athos for awhile before Treville had made Athos his handler. Aramis had nearly panicked when the man had done that but he had assured him that Athos did not think less of him because he was a werewolf. Aramis had been hesitant, but Athos had proved Treville correct. After that, the only thing Aramis had to worry about was giving himself, and his growing feelings, away. 

Everything had been going fine for about six months until Aramis and Athos had been sent out on a mission by themselves. That was not the problem. The problem had been on the way home when they had been ambushed. Athos had taken a knife to the side, yelling and going down hard. Aramis had seen red. Literally. Before he realized what was happening, he had transformed, tearing his leathers at the seams and rending their enemies apart with claws and teeth. When it was over, he had fallen at Athos' side, entirely human once more and carefully checked his wound. Aramis had bandaged him and gotten them back to the garrison without anyone commenting on the state of his leathers. He quickly changed into the spare set he kept stored in the infirmary and emerged to find Athos and the Captain talking quietly. He had looked back and forth between the two men then taken his weapons off and laid them aside.

"I would prefer if you did not have Athos do it," he had said, his voice surprisingly steady under the circumstances. As much as he wished to spend every last second with the other man, he did not want his last memory of him to be of this and he did not want Athos' last memory of him to be of his execution. 

"What is it you think we plan to do?" Athos had asked, genuinely not understanding at first.

Treville had gone still then and waited, knowing it would not take long for Athos to understand. He was right. A few seconds later, Athos was growling fit to make Aramis proud and turning to stand between the other two men. "He did nothing wrong," Athos spat. 

"He tore four men apart with his bare hands," Treville argued calmly.

"He was protecting me," Athos shot back.

"So he was," Treville said, smiling softly. "Aramis, perhaps you should get him home. I'll see you two in a few days, once Athos is healed enough to come back."

"Come on, old friend," Marsac cajoled, bringing Aramis' thoughts back to the present. "Tell me who your Master is. After all, I need to know who to send your severed head to."

Aramis studied the man, seething at the thought of him doing something so callous to Athos. He had to be careful, though, not to let Marsac know that his Master was anything more to him than simply a handler. If he did, it could endanger Athos and Aramis would never allow that. 

"Don't worry," Aramis said, smirking slightly. "He will find you. When I do not show up as I was supposed to, he will come for me and when he finds what you have done he will not rest until he has done to you what you have done to me. Rest assured, Marsac, this one takes his job as my handler quite seriously."

"I shall look forward to his visit then," Marsac said, trying not to show how Aramis' words had unnerved him. "Perhaps I will have your pelt tanned by then. Do you think he'd like feeling your fur beneath his hand one last time."

Fury unlike any he had ever felt before surged through Aramis and he threw himself bodily against the bars of his tiny prison, snarling as his shoulder struck the wall of the cage. Had his hands been free, he would have torn Marsac limb from limb, human form be damned. He could feel the change shimmering just beneath his skin, making him itch with the desire to transform. He felt the silver lining the collar and manacles he wore begin to burn his skin as his body fought against it. In the end, he was simply too tired, too weak, to fight the silver entrapping him in his prison made of flesh and he slumped back against the cage, panting.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

"Oi! Marsac, it reeks down here," one of the men called out as he came near Aramis' cage. "Why don't you take your dog for a walk before it pisses itself again."

Aramis growled low in his throat at the laughter that erupted from the other men. He couldn't help but wish Marsac would do just that, take him out of his cage and let him walk, perhaps even free his hands for a moment so he could relieve himself. All he would need was a moment. Even as weakened as he was, he was confident he would be able to rip the bastard's throat out before one of the others shot him. 

It was not anywhere near what Marsac deserved but it would end this nightmare and ensure that Athos did not have to live through finding what was left of him. He knew it would have to be soon, though. He was weakening rapidly, his refusal to eat and the cramp quarters taking a toll on his body.

A few minutes later it actually looked as though Aramis might get his wish as Marsac approached the cage. He had something in his hands but he was careful to keep them hidden from Aramis' view. When he was next to the cage, Marsac reached inside and grabbed Aramis by the hair, jerking his head back hard.

"Does my dog want to go for a walk?" He sneered, his face so close to the bars that Aramis could feel his breath against his cheek.

"Go to Hell," Aramis gasped, refusing to be cowed even now.

"Bad dog," Marsac snapped. He pulled back hard on Aramis' hair, slamming his head into the metal bars and stunning him for a moment. That was all he needed as he quickly took the silver choke chain from his pocket and slipped it over Aramis' head before the man even realized what he was doing.

"No," Aramis moaned weakly as he felt the silver settle around his neck. Even the slightest touch of silver burned now, his body unable to fight the combined effects any longer. While it had not started to char and blacken his skin yet, he knew it was only a matter of time. His body was losing its ability to heal, too much of the deadly poison thrust into and against him. Eventually, these casual cruelties would be enough to kill him if he did not find a way to bolster himself. 

"What's the matter, dog? Don't like your choke chain?" Marsac asked, grinning maliciously. 

Aramis shook his head, refusing to say anything. He wanted to ask Marsac why he was doing this, why he was torturing him so. They had been friends. What had he done to make the man hate him so much as to do this? He said nothing, knowing he would not get an answer or that any answer he did get would likely make sense to no one but Marsac himself.

"Now, since the men are tired of smelling your piss, I'm going to take you out for a little walk. People should walk their dogs after all. If you try anything, I will take out your eyes. Do you understand?"

Aramis nodded once then the chain around his neck suddenly tightened, cutting off his air and burning into his flesh. He struggled in his bonds, trying to free himself, but the manacles around his wrists held him imprisoned. All he could do was thrash and shake.

"Do you understand?" Marsac asked again, jerking back on the choke chain with each word. He let up on it enough for Aramis to be able to speak and waited.

"Y-y-yes," Aramis stammered, gasping for air as the horrid burning began to abate.

"Better," Marsac said. He let go of the chain and walked around to the front of the cage. This time, he let Aramis see the leash he held in his hand, chuckling at the look of humiliation in the man's eyes. He was a bit surprised at how much he was enjoying seeing proud Aramis brought so low. By the time the hunt finally arrived, he doubted if Aramis would even be able to look him in the eye, so great would be his shame.

Marsac motioned to the men and stood back. He watched, amused, as they drug Aramis from the cage and all but threw him at his feet. Leaning down, he quickly snapped the leash onto the choke chain then pulled Aramis to his feet. Wrapping the leather leash around his hand, Marsac began walking him around the room, yanking him forward brutally whenever he fell behind. He laughed when Aramis stumbled, his numb legs not wanting to work after being confined for so long. 

Once Aramis got his legs under him, Marsac made him to walk around the room again and again, parading him past the other men and forcing him to endure their stares and jeers. He tried not to shudder when he heard two of them talking of using his cock as fishing bait, telling himself he would be dead by then anyway so it would not matter. 

At last, Marsac led him over to a bucket in the corner of the room. When he felt Marsac's hand grasp his lax member, he pulled back hard, trying to twist away. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice coming out high and shrill.

"Would you rather piss all over yourself again?" Marsac asked as if speaking to a simpleton.

"My hands..."

"Do you think me stupid, Aramis?" Marsac laughed. "I would no more unbind your hands than I would hand you a loaded musket right now. Now I suggest you piss before any of my men decide they're bored. After all, you are much more accessible out of your cage."

At the word 'accessible' Marsac let the hand holding Aramis' member stroke up and down it in the parody of a lover's caress. This time, Aramis was unable to hold back his shudder of revulsion. 

"Hmm... Maybe I should mount you," Marsac said as he continued to idly stroke Aramis, relishing in the obvious distress it was causing him. "Is that what you need, bitch? A good, hard fucking to put you in your place?"

"Please," Aramis sobbed, unable to stop himself. He could not stand the thought of another touching him like this. He belonged to his Alpha. He belonged to Athos. The thought of Marsac taking him, mounting him, made him physically ill.

"Then take your piss before I decide to take something else," Marsac snarled in his ear. He stopped moving his hand then and simply held Aramis' cock. He was pleased when he soon began to urinate, satisfied that any rebellion on Aramis' part was now firmly quashed. 

When he was finished, Marsac all but drug him back to the cage by the choke chain and threw him inside. He removed the leash but left the hateful chain in place, not wanting to have to go through the trouble of putting it back on him again. That taken care of, he and his men left, leaving Aramis alone in his cage once more.

Aramis had landed hard on his knees when Marsac had thrown him back into the cage. He had not moved as the leash was removed and the cage once more secured. Only when he was alone, did he hang his head and let the tears that he had only barely managed to hold back come.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

"What's going on?" Porthos asked as he and d'Artagnan entered Treville's office to find Athos already there and deep in conversation with the Captain.

"Aramis is missing," Treville said without preamble. "He was due back here two days ago from a simple delivery mission."

"And you don't think he just made a stop somewhere and lost track of time?" Porthos asked, though he could tell from the looks on the men's faces that they did not. 

"Not for this long," Athos said. "A day, at the most, and even that would be pushing it. Aramis would not... Something has happened to him. We need to find him."

"Where do we start?" D'Artagnan asked. He knew there was something that Athos and Treville were not telling them but at the moment he didn't care. Aramis was missing. When they got their brother back then they could worry about it.

In less than an hour, they were underway, headed to the place Aramis was to make his delivery. They would need to find out if he had ever arrived. Athos was fairly certain he had, otherwise the Captain would have heard something by now. Still, it was the only starting point they had. 

They pushed the horses hard. Even doing so, there was no way they could make the two day trip in any less than a day and they needed to keep an eye out for any sign of Aramis. If they could pick up his trail, it would be much quicker than going all the way to Beauvais and attempting to retrace his steps.

They pushed on until well into the night, until the risk of missing some sign of Aramis became too great to chance. When they finally stopped, their horses were as grateful for the respite as their riders. As they had ridden, Athos as silent and grim as death, Porthos and d'Artagnan began to grow worried. It was not that they were not worried for Aramis. They were. But he was a Musketeer. One of the best of them. He could take care of himself. Athos being worried like this was troubling.

"What aren't you telling us?" Porthos asked as they rested around the fire.

"Nothing," Athos replied.

"You're lying," Porthos countered.

"Nothing I am going to tell you now," Athos amended. "Nothing that will make any difference in finding him. If I thought it would, if I thought you knowing would help get him back any sooner, any safer, I would tell you this instant."

"Athos..."

"Ask me again once we've gotten him back," Athos offered. "But for now, let it be."

They arrived in Beauvais late the next morning. They quickly found out that Aramis had arrived on time, made his delivery and been on his way again a short time later, not even bothering to stay the night at the inn, stating he was anxious to return to Paris. Athos felt his heart lurch at that. His wolf had been eager to get back to him. He hadn't even bothered to stay the night but had turned his horse back for home the second he'd been able to. 

Athos vowed, then and there, to find his wolf and bring him home. And if any man had laid hands on him, if anyone had harmed his wolf in any way, he would make them wish they had never been born. He only hoped that whatever had befallen Aramis was of a mundane nature. As much as he did not want to think it, he hoped the man had only run afoul of local bandits and was, perhaps, injured somewhere. If not, if he had fallen into the hands of someone who understood his true nature, then Aramis was in a great deal of danger. If he even still lived.

"So now what?" D'Artagnan asked as they gathered just outside the city.

"We know he was heading home and he would have taken the most expedient way," Athos began.

"Don't take this wrong," Porthos broke in hesitantly. "But are you sure he was really heading home? I mean just because he said he was doesn't mean he didn't have a stop planned along the way."

"I am sure," Athos told him.

"Athos, I know you want it to be that way but Aramis has other lovers all over the countryside. He could have easily planned a..."

"Aramis has no lover in this area," Athos told him.

"And you know this how?" Porthos challenged.

"Because he would have told me if he did," Athos said, growing exasperated. 

"Athos..."

"If you do not wish to accompany me, Porthos, then you are free to return to Paris but stop delaying my search for him," Athos said sternly. With that, he turned his horse toward Paris, taking the most expedient route, and began hunting for his wolf once more.

It was not until late the next day that Athos thought they might have found something. He remembered Aramis complaining about one of his horse’s shoes not sitting right on the animal’s hoof. He had even shown Athos the animal’s tracks, how one of them had been slightly off. Athos was looking at tracks like that right now. As he examined the area, he found what appeared to be dried blood splashed against the side of a tree. There was not a great deal of it, but it was enough to indicate that someone had been injured.

Sending Porthos and d’Artagnan to see if they could find anything else, he crouched down near the bloodied tree and concentrated. He was not a Were. He could not call Aramis to him as another werewolf could. But he was the wolf’s Alpha. If Aramis was anywhere near, he would feel Athos’ presence and, if they were lucky, Athos would be able to feel his call.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Aramis gasped as a bucket of icy water was dumped over him, waking him from the exhausted sleep he had fallen into. Looking around, he was not surprised to see Marsac and three of his men approaching his cage once more. All three carried long, silver blades with them, which Aramis knew were wickedly sharp. 

Aramis knew the full moon was drawing near but it was still almost a week away. He didn’t think he could take another week of this hell. Even if he did survive that long, he would stand no chance at all against his hunters. Perhaps it would be best to simply goad Marsac into killing him and be done with it. 

He had hoped, however futilely, that Athos might come for him in time. That did not look like it was going to happen. He had known the chance of Athos actually finding him was small. The man had no idea where he had been taken. Aramis himself had no idea how far away he was from where he had first been shot. There would be no way for Athos to know he was even missing until he was days overdue. No, his Alpha was not coming for him. At least not in time to save him. Aramis found he was surprisingly alright with that, especially if it meant that Athos would not be putting himself in danger because of him. 

“Morning, mutt,” Marsac said cheerily as he walked over to the cage. He ran the dagger in his hand along the bars, enjoying the way Aramis could not help but cringe away from it whenever it came near him. It was amazing to see what a little silver could do to one of these monsters. 

Aramis watched them out of half-closed eyes. He tried to keep track of the other men but the majority of his attention was on Marsac. He could see the madness dancing in his eyes and felt his stomach roil in dread. 

“Tell me, Aramis, can I use a silver knife to skin you or would that mar your lovely pelt?” Marsac asked.

"How about I bite you and then we can test the theory out on you?" Aramis suggested, baring his all-too human teeth at the man.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Marsac scoffed. "We both know you're all bark right now. Too weak to do any real damage. Once the Marquis' run you to ground, I'll make sure to rip those fangs out of your skull before I skin you, though."

"Could make yerself a necklace outta 'em," one of the men surrounding the cage added, making the others laugh.

Deciding he'd had enough of Aramis' cheek, Marsac shoved the silver dagger in his hand in through the bars, digging a deep gouge in Aramis' shoulder and making him cry out in pain before he could stop himself. He nodded to his men then and they all began stabbing and slicing at him again, cheering whenever one of them got in a particularly good blow.

Aramis could feel himself weakening as blood poured from his body, running freely down his arms, chest and back. He could feel the silver burning as it entered his veins, poisoning him by degrees even as his body tried to fight it. If they did not back off this time, if they kept on with their cruel game, it would be the end of him. Even if Marsac took away the silver binding him, he did not think his body would be able to overcome the combination of his injuries, blood loss and starvation. Smiling to himself, Aramis spared a moment to hope the Marquis was as petty and vengeful as most nobles tended to be then he pushed aside all thoughts of anyone but Athos, wanting his last moments in life to be spent with him however they could be.

Marsac knew they needed to stop, that they were pushing things, but Aramis had a way of infuriating him that made common sense fly right out the window. He told himself that the wolf could take it, that if they went too far all he had to do was take off the silver binding him and he would heal then they could torture the man all over again. 

He had a moment of doubt as he saw Aramis curling into a ball, no longer trying to protect himself from their blows. He was about to call a stop to things to check on him when the sound of shots rang out. He and his men froze then they were scrambling toward the stairs. Marsac shouted orders at them and grabbed his own weapons, leaving two men behind to guard Aramis. He had been expecting the dog's Alpha to show up at some point but he wasn't expecting him to bring help.

The fight, such that it was, didn't last long. Marsac, when he saw just who had come for Aramis, fled. He had no idea which of the three was his Alpha and he didn't care to find out. Not now. He could work on finding that out once he managed to escape with his own hide intact. 

When Athos finally made it to the cage his wolf was being kept in he nearly wept. "Find the keys," he snapped at the others as he knelt down next to it, as close to Aramis as he could get. He reached in through the bars and laid his hand on his wolf's back and wanted to kill them all over again when the other man jerked and let out a low moan.

"Here," d'Artagnan said as he ran over with the keys, Porthos right behind him. 

Taking them, Athos quickly unlocked the cage and reached inside with both arms to carefully pull Aramis out. He felt the other man stiffen and try to resist and Athos felt rage boil within him yet again. "It's me, Aramis," he whispered as he stroked his hands up and down the man's arms, trying to ease him. "It's Athos. I'm here now and I'm going to take you home."

"Athos?" Aramis repeated and cautiously raised his head as if afraid it might be some trick and his Alpha was not there after all.

"It's me," Athos told him again. "Come on. Let's get you out of there so I can see how bad you're hurt."

"The...the man-manacles and...and the collar," Aramis gasped as Athos carefully pulled him from his tiny prison. 

"Silver?" Athos asked quietly.

Aramis nodded jerkily and had to bite down hard to keep from crying out in pain as Athos maneuvered him out of the confines of the cage and onto the cold basement floor. His legs were cramping from being moved after so long, Marsac's short "walk" not having done much good, but Aramis remained as silent as he could simply glad to be near his Alpha once more.

"See if there's a key to those manacles on there," Athos said to d'Artagnan as he began working on ridding Aramis of the collar around his neck. He took off the choke chain first, throwing it across the room angrily when he noticed the silver plating covering it. Next came the wide leather collar that was buckled behind his neck. He could see the traces of silver shooting through it as well and wanted to cry at the pain he knew his wolf had to be in just from wearing those. 

Once the collar was off, Athos could see the blackened flesh beneath it and winced. He took a flask of water and dampened the edge of his cloak then began carefully patting it. He felt more than heard Aramis whimper but a quick look at him showed the relief in his eyes so Athos continued.

"I've got the key," d'Artagnan said after a moment. He reached out to unlock Aramis' shackles, but Athos grabbed his hand, stopping him. 

"He's been through a great deal," he explained as he met d'Artagnan's eyes and held them. "It would be best if I was the only one to touch him for now."

"Alright." D'Artagnan handed Athos the key and stepped back, sensing that both men needed some room. He had not missed the silver glint on the collar and chain Athos had removed from Aramis. Nor had he missed the state of the man's neck. Those things, along with the way Athos was acting, pointed to something that he was not sure he wanted to know.

"What is it?" Porthos asked when d'Artagnan had stepped back. He, too, had noticed the state of Aramis' neck as well as Athos' behavior. He also knew that there was something Athos wasn't telling them. 

"That collar he took off of him," d'Artagnan whispered. "It had silver in it."

"What are you saying?" Porthos asked warily.

"That there is only one thing I know of that burns and chars when silver is pressed against its skin," d'Artagnan whispered fervently.

"They know," Aramis whispered to Athos as the man freed his hands, casting the silver-laced manacles as far away from Aramis as he could.

"They suspect," Athos amended just as quietly. "They do not know. But they will once we reach Paris. I will have no choice but to tell them. I am sorry, Aramis."

"It's alright," Aramis murmured. Now that the silver was gone from him, the pain was abating though his body had not yet started to heal itself. He was still much too weak for that but at least the unrelenting pain was finally ceasing. "If they cannot accept..."

"They will," Athos assured him.

"If they cannot," Aramis said again. "I will accept whatever decision you make."

"Hush now, my wolf," Athos said as he leaned down next to him. "Rest and heal. We still have a long ride ahead of us to get you home again."

They found Aramis' clothes and Athos helped him into his shirt and breeches. He wrapped both of their cloaks around him hoping to take the chill from his skin. Days kept naked and shackled in a dank, cold dungeon had left him half frozen. 

When they went to mount their horses, it became clear that Aramis was much too weak to ride alone. The man couldn't even lift his leg enough to get his foot in the stirrup. "Are you injured somewhere I don't know of?" Athos asked as he helped him up onto his own horse then mounted behind him, his arm going around Aramis' middle to hold him.

"No," Aramis said, his voice just loud enough for the others to hear. "But I have not eaten since they took me. All they would give me was raw meat and I... I will not be made an animal."

"As soon as we are away from here we shall find a place to make camp and get you fed and tended to properly," Athos promised. 

"I can hold on," Aramis told him, smiling softly. His Alpha was with him, had come for him. He could be strong a little bit longer for him.

Porthos cast a glance at d'Artagnan at Aramis' words about being given nothing but raw meat to eat. It was looking more and more like the younger man was right. Aramis was...something. Porthos clamped his jaw tightly at the thought of his friend keeping something like this from him. Especially when it was clear that he had not felt the need to do so with Athos. He opened his mouth to comment then shut it again. Aramis was hurt and barely holding on. They needed to get him seen to first. After that there would be time for questions and explanations. Putting his anger aside, Porthos spurred his horse into a trot, heading them away from this place as quickly as he thought Aramis could handle. 

D'Artagnan eyed Aramis warily but said nothing. He knew about Weres to some degree but not nearly enough it would seem. Back in Gascony, the only time the question of Weres came up was when one started rampaging and needed to be hunted down. Looking at his friend, d'Artagnan could not imagine Aramis as some ravenous beast bent on destroying everything in its path. If that had happened even one time, the man would have ended his own life out of guilt alone, that much d'Artagnan was sure of. Glancing in Porthos' direction, he could not miss the man's anger. He could understand it, to a degree. Aramis was one of his two closest friends and had not told him of this. Neither had Athos, for that matter. He could tell that Porthos was struggling with that, unable to understand why his friends had not trusted him. D'Artagnan thought he might understand, though. Considering how much of the populace thought Weres little more than rabid beasts, was it any wonder Aramis had been afraid to confide in them, unwilling to risk losing those he loved most?

They rode for a couple of miles before Athos called a halt. He had found a suitable clearing that would work for the night and was eager to get Aramis taken care of. He could feel the man's strength ebbing as they rode, having to hold him tighter against him to keep him from slumping over and it worried him. His healing should have started to kick in by now. That it had not was cause for concern. 

"Are you sure we're far enough away?" D'Artagnan asked as he surveyed the area.

"Aramis must rest," Athos said as he swung down off his horse. He pulled Aramis down after him, nearly stumbling himself when the man's legs failed to hold him. 

D'Artagnan dismounted at once and took Athos' horse. He began getting the horses settled as Porthos grabbed their saddlebags and went to help Athos tend to Aramis. He glanced nervously over his shoulder as Porthos approached the pair, watching carefully. It wasn't that he was worried about what Aramis might do but the man was injured and could react instinctively before he realized that it was Porthos and not some enemy that had drawn near. 

"He will not attack his brothers, d'Artagnan," Athos called out softly, aware of the younger man's scrutiny as Porthos neared them. He saw his words cause Porthos to pause as well and simply waited for him. 

"I know that," d'Artagnan said as he finished with the horses and slowly came over as well. He felt slightly ashamed for thinking such a thing but he was still reeling from discovering Aramis’ secret. "But he's hurt and instinct can be hard to overcome at times."

"I know the scents of my brothers," Aramis said softly. "I would never mistake one of you for an enemy. But you are wise to be cautious. I am...dangerous."

"You are no more dangerous than you were an hour ago or a day ago or a week ago," Athos said firmly. "You are no danger to your brothers and they should know that."

"We do," Porthos said as he knelt down next to Athos and handed him their saddlebags. Even if he didn’t know exactly what was going on, he knew that much. Aramis was no danger to them. "Do we need to do anything about any of those wounds I saw on him back there?"

Athos frowned at the question. Normally, the answer would be no, that Aramis' own natural healing would take care of them in short order. However, that did not appear to be the case this time. "I don't know," Athos said after a moment. "He isn't healing as he should be."

"He has not eaten in days," d'Artagnan reminded them, remembering what Aramis had said about being offered nothing but raw meat. "Could that be the cause?"

"Most likely," Aramis replied. "My body wants to heal, it just does not have the strength to do so at the moment. It was taking everything I had to keep the silver poisoning me at bay. I am simply glad the pain has stopped in all honesty."

"Had I known they had hurt you like this I would never have killed them as quickly as I did," Athos spat angrily as he rummaged in their bags for something for Aramis to eat. He pulled out some bread and broke a piece off then fed it to the man, closing his eyes momentarily when Aramis' lips closed around his fingers. 

"I knew you would come for me," Aramis said after he had eaten the morsel. "I... I had given up hope of being alive when you found me, though."

"Aramis..." Athos moaned.

"He planned to skin me," Aramis told him. "After the Marquis hunted me down, Marsac was going to skin me and take my pelt."

"Marsac?" Athos asked, aghast. Marsac had been Aramis' handler before the man deserted. He could not understand how he could even contemplate such a thing let alone go through with it.

"Yes," Aramis nodded as Athos fed him another bite. "He has gone mad."

"So you are..." D'Artagnan began somewhat anxiously.

"A werewolf," Athos answered. "He has been since he was bitten as a young child. Treville knows. Marsac was Aramis' original handler. I took over after the bastard deserted him at Savoy."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Porthos asked, anger coloring his words. They were brothers. They trusted each other with everything. Or at least he thought they did. Apparently that wasn’t the case for Aramis.

"Because I would not allow him to," Athos said, taking the blame for the decision. He had known how terrified Aramis was of his brothers finding out and turning from him because of what he was. Too many times in his past things had gone badly when his true nature was discovered. Athos had understood and had agreed to keep his secret from Porthos and then d'Artagnan. And though the desire had been Aramis', as his Alpha the decision had been his. If Porthos was to blame anyone, Athos felt it should be him.

"You would not allow it?" Porthos repeated, his voice low. 

"No," Athos said, meeting Porthos' eyes unflinchingly. "It has not always gone well for him when others have found out his true nature. I did not want to take the risk."

"You didn't trust me," Porthos spat, hurt and anger coloring his words. He would die for any one of his brothers yet they could not trust him with the truth.

"It was not a matter of trusting you," Athos tried to explain. "As his handler, it is my duty to help ensure he keeps control. As his Alpha, it is my responsibility to ensure he is safe. His well-being is my main concern. I am sorry if you are hurt by my perceived lack of trust. That was never my intention, neither to hurt you nor to make you feel as though we did not feel we could trust you with this."

"Shouldn't the decision have been Aramis'?" Porthos asked, wondering why Athos was the one to make the call.

"No," Athos answered. "It is not up to Aramis. It is up to me."

Porthos turned to Aramis then and saw the man eyeing him warily. He could see the fear in his brother's eyes and it tore at him. He was not even sure what it was Aramis was afraid of. Was he truly worried about his reaction to learning the truth? Or was he merely worried about Porthos being angry with Athos for hiding this from him for so long?

"He is my Alpha, Porthos," Aramis said softly. "I follow him in all things."

"So, um, Athos is a Were, too?" d'Artagnan asked, confused by both men's reference to Athos as Aramis' Alpha.

"No," Aramis said, shaking his head. "One does not have to be a Were to be an Alpha, though it is rare. Athos is as human as you and Porthos. I am the only inhuman creature among us."

"Hey," Porthos said before Athos could respond. "My brother is not some creature." And no matter what else, Aramis _was_ his brother. So was Athos even if he was angry with him at the moment. 

"Porthos..."

"You're my brother, Aramis," Porthos told him. "I don't care what else you are. You're my brother."

"Do not be angry at Athos for not telling you," Aramis pleaded. "He only did it for me. He knew I was afraid..."

"That's enough, my wolf," Athos said as he carded his fingers through Aramis' filthy hair. He fed him another bite of bread, smiling when Aramis took it at once. He knew Porthos was angry with him and would likely have further words for him. That was fine. As long as he did not take his anger out on Aramis, Athos would deal with whatever recriminations came his way.

"Porthos, can you stay with them?" D'Artagnan asked as he made to get up.

"Yeah. Something wrong?" Porthos asked, looking at the other man. He could see Athos and Aramis out of the corner of his eye looking at him, too.

"No. But he needs more than bread and cheese to get his strength back and start to heal," d'Artagnan said. "There should be plenty of small game around here. I won't be long."

"D'Artagnan," Aramis called out, reaching toward the younger man as best he could.

D'Artagnan responded at once, kneeling back down beside him and taking his hand without pause. "I won't go far and I'll find us all something to have for dinner tonight. You just rest here with Athos and Porthos. Okay?"

"Be careful," Aramis cautioned. "Maybe Porthos should..."

"No," D'Artagnan told him. "We're still too close to chance leaving you and Athos unguarded. If you were stronger... Well, that's a lie. I wouldn't want to chance it even then. They do not want me. I will be fine and I will not go far. Rest, brother."

While d’Artagnan hunted for their dinner, Athos began to clean Aramis up as best he could. He bristled when Porthos took up a cloth and began helping him, not wanting anyone else’s hands on his wolf right now. Not even those of their brother.

“There a problem?” Porthos asked as he continued to clean the dirt and grime from Aramis’ face, being careful to avoid the burns on his neck.

“I am his Alpha,” Athos tried to explain. “And he is injured. It is not you, brother. If I could, I would spirit him away to a place where no one could find us until he was healed.”

“So being his Alpha makes you protective of him?”

“Being his Alpha makes me responsible for him. Being his lover makes me protective of him,” Athos said.

“I submit to my Alpha in all things, Porthos. But you need to understand, I was in love with him long before he became my Alpha. Before Treville even made him my handler. It was why I was against it in the beginning. I knew I would never be able to keep my feelings for him hidden and I was right.”

“They are returned, my wolf,” Athos told him. “My Aramis. I am as devoted to you as you are to me.”

“I know.” Aramis turned his head and nuzzled his face against Athos’ palm. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of his Alpha. He felt fresh tears sting his eyes and squeezed them shut. He had thought he would never get to do this again, never get to smell his Alpha, never get to feel his fingers through his hair. 

“Easy,” Porthos said as he gripped his shoulder gently. He hated seeing his brother like this. Athos was right, they should never have killed them as quickly as they did. “You’re safe now, ‘Mis. You’re safe.”

True to his word, d’Artagnan returned shortly with four fat rabbits. He saw the way Athos and Porthos were gathered around Aramis and realized something more had gone on. For the time being, he didn’t concern himself with it. They would tell him when he needed to know. Instead, he moved a short ways away to begin cleaning the rabbits. He remembered what Aramis said about them trying to make him eat raw meat so tried to prepare the meat out of his line of sight.

“Seeing you preparing them won’t bother me,” Aramis called out when he realized what the other man was trying to do.

“No,” d’Artagnan said. “But I’m not sure it’ll help either. After so long without food, I don’t want the scent of this to turn your stomach.”

“Porthos,” Athos began hesitantly. He had to stop and take a breath before he could force himself to continue. “Can you stay with Aramis while I get a fire going?” He knew the two men needed to talk without him there. Porthos would not feel at ease about all he had learned until he was sure that Aramis was not being abused in some way. While it angered Athos to a degree, it pleased him much more for it was clear that not only had Aramis not lost his brother over all of this, but had, in fact, gained a protector. Athos only wished he knew how his own relationship with the man would fare. 

“Athos?” Aramis called out, a note of desperation in his voice.

“I will be in your line of sight at all times,” Athos said as he stroked his hand down Aramis’ face. “If you have need of me, you only need to call out and I shall be back beside you. He needs to talk to you. He will not rest easy until he has done so. I would give him that opportunity now unless you do not feel up to it.”

“No, I can… I can manage,” Aramis said. 

“We don’t have to do this now, ‘Mis,” Porthos said, seeing how much the thought of being even a short distance from Athos upset him.

“No, Athos is right,” Aramis said, drawing strength from his Alpha’s calm presence. “You have questions that you do not wish to ask with him here.”

Pressing a kiss to Aramis’ forehead, Athos left the pair and began gathering what they needed for a fire. He had intended to forego one but Aramis was still cold and they needed a way to cook the game d’Artagnan had hunted. He made sure to stay well within Aramis’ line of sight but far enough away that he could not hear much of their conversation. He would, of course, listen a bit just to make sure his wolf was not becoming overwhelmed. 

Aramis waited until Athos was far enough away for Porthos to relax then he turned his attention to him, letting his nose and ears track Athos’ movements. “He does not hurt me, Porthos,” he said. “Well, at least no more so than he needs to.”

“Come again?” Porthos asked, his entire face darkening.

“I am a werewolf, brother. Athos’ duty as my handler is to help me maintain control. He may be my Alpha but the wolf in me… it knows that he is a human. And even if that were not the case, knowing me I would probably test him on occasion anyway.”

“I don’t understand,” Porthos said.

“Alright, let’s start at the beginning,” Aramis tried again. “But first, for now I need you to accept that Athos does not hurt me more than he must and then only as a means to help me keep control or to reassert his dominance, which is required for him to remain my Alpha and thus be able to help me keep control. I will explain everything to you as thoroughly as I can but, until I do, you must be willing to accept that as fact.”

“I do not want to,” Porthos admitted. “You are my brother and my best friend. I love you dearly. I know you would not lie to me, yet you have kept this from me. I worry that your… submission… to him clouds your judgment in this and were it any other man than Athos… But it is Athos and I trust him as I do you. I will accept what you are telling me as best as I can.” It wasn’t that he did not trust Athos for he did but Athos had purposely kept all of this from him claiming the decision was his. That was difficult for Porthos to accept no matter the reasoning behind it.

“Good enough,” Aramis said, relieved. He had meant what he’d said about not attacking his brothers but if Porthos were to try to harm Athos in some way, he was not sure he would be able to stop himself. Not in time.

As best as he could, Aramis tried to explain to Porthos what being a werewolf meant. He told him about the anger that was always simmering just under the surface, ready to break free and lash out at any moment. He explained about the wolf's natural desire for dominance and how that pushed him to challenge Athos on occasion. 

"That is when he must, well, put me in my place one could say," Aramis said. "He must prove to me that he is still the more dominant among us, that he can and _will_ control me."

"And this requires violence?" Porthos asked.

"Yes," Aramis replied. "I am a werewolf, Porthos, not a fluffy kitten. The wolf responds to brute force. Strength and cunning. He must be held down and made to submit. Only then will he accept the one dominating him as his Alpha. Only then will he obey."

"Did Marsac..."

"No," Aramis snarled, his eyes flashing red for a moment before he got himself back under control. 

"Aramis?" Athos called, having sensed the sudden shift in his wolf even from the other side of the fire he was building.

"All is well," he called out then turned back to Porthos. "My apologies, brother. Marsac was my handler. Nothing more. He was never my Alpha. I never submitted to him. If he had so much as tried to mount me I would have killed him, consequences be damned."

"So you don't have to have an Alpha? You can get by with just a handler?" Porthos asked, trying to understand.

"I can, yes," Aramis said. "I am one of the few who can, though. I was turned as a young child, only five at the time. I have had my whole life to learn to deal with this. To learn to live among humans without losing control, to hide who I am from everyone around me, even those I care about most.

"But while I can get by that way, it is more difficult. A handler is...is little more than a reminder, if you will. He is the one tasked with taking a wolf down should he forget himself and lose control. Yet another reason I was unhappy when Treville named Athos. The last thing I wanted was for my brother to have to be the one to end my life."

"Athos would never have done that," Porthos said.

"Yes, he would," Aramis told him. "He will. If I ever become a danger, if he ever loses control of me and I of myself, then he will not hesitate to put me down. You do not know the damage an out of control Were can do. You do not know the bloody havoc they can wreak. And Athos knows I would rather die than become some ravening beast."

"I don't like it," Porthos said honestly. "But I think I understand what you're trying to tell me. If the wolf ever thinks it can take him, then there's nothing holding it back, right?"

"Something like that."

"So what's to stop the wolf from killing him?" 

"Only me," Aramis said. "And Athos' own in-borne dominance. He is a natural leader. To follow him is actually quite easy. Most of the time, the wolf is content to accept his place. Occasionally, however, he gets...pissy. Sometimes I wonder if he doesn't just want a good fucking and finds pushing Athos the most expedient way to get it."

Porthos actually sputtered at that, the image that came to mind disconcerting and erotic at the same time. "You did that on purpose," he accused.

"Only a little," Aramis smiled. "I am not an Alpha. I know this. To lead is not my way. That is the main reason why the wolf does not kill him even when it does challenge him. It wants to be led and it considers Athos a worthy Alpha."

"When he puts you in your place, so to speak, does he always do it by...well, by fucking you?" Porthos asked, blushing a bit at asking so personal a question of his friend.

"Not always, but usually," Aramis replied. "Sometimes he does other things, but only when he is so angry with me that he does not want to risk fucking me until he has calmed. Those times, he will..."

"He'll what?" Porthos pressed when Aramis trailed off.

"I'll punish him in some way," Athos replied. "Usually physically, such as a belting. Other times, it can be something of a more...humiliating nature."

"You whip him?" Porthos growled at the very thought.

"He takes a belt to me. He does not whip me," Aramis clarified. "He does me no damage and being made to submit to such, by a human no less, puts the wolf in his place quite nicely."

"Porthos, please understand, this does not happen often," Athos told him. "Only when Aramis, when the wolf, is feeling out of control, as if he cannot maintain his humanity. Then, and only then, do I step in and put him in his place as Aramis put it."

"Or when the wolf wishes you to," Aramis added.

"That, dear Aramis, is quite different," Athos said. "And if you think I do not know the difference between you needing to be taken down and simply wanting rough sex, you are mistaken. Luckily for you, I have no problem obliging either."

Aramis blushed bright red at Athos' words, earning a hearty laugh from Porthos. It would seem his Alpha understood his needs, both human and lupine, better than he had imagined. He had not really thought himself fooling Athos, but he had not realized the depth of his understanding. Or his acceptance.

"I will have more questions for you," Porthos warned as he stood up to go help d'Artagnan prepare their dinner and give Athos a chance for a few minutes of privacy with Aramis. "For both of you, most likely. But I trust my brothers. I only hope you feel you can trust me in return.”

“I do trust you, Porthos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Aramis said. He felt horrible now for keeping this from his brothers and only hoped he could repair the damage done between them.

“You had your reasons,” Porthos shrugged. “Just, no more secrets. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Aramis watched as Porthos moved off to help d'Artagnan and Athos take his place next to him. He felt himself relax at the proximity of his Alpha, knowing he was safe now. He had a moment of surprise when Athos stretched out beside him then he was mewling softly as his Alpha turned him on his side and pressed himself along his back, his strong arm wrapping around his stomach.

"Easy, my wolf," Athos murmured in his ear as he nuzzled just beneath it, kissing softly. 

"Athos," Aramis moaned loudly, not expecting to feel his Alpha's touch in such a way with their brothers so close. His cry was loud enough to cause Porthos and d'Artagnan to look up sharply but they turned back to their task after sharing a knowing look between them, satisfied that Aramis was in good hands.

"What do you need?" Athos whispered as he continued to kiss and nuzzle behind his ear. He knew it was a scent gland for his wolf and that Aramis found it particularly pleasurable.

"You, Alpha," Aramis gasped. "I need you." He could feel his body trying to respond to his Alpha's touch, but he didn't have the energy. 

"Shh. Not yet, my wolf," Athos said. "You must rest and heal. When we get you home, I shall draw you the hottest bath I can, then I will bathe every inch of your body until all of their scents are gone from you. When you can no longer detect even a trace of them, then I will lay you out on our bed and I will mount you. I will spread your legs and I will press myself inside of you and I will rut you until I spend, filling you with my seed until it runs down your thighs. And then, then I will lick every bit of it up and do it all over again."

Aramis felt it then, the shift, how it wanted to come. His body sang with his Alpha's words, making him ache to change. He could feel it, like an itch under his skin and he found himself mewling again, whining high and needy as he pressed back against Athos. He felt his cock wanting to harden, wanting to react to his Alpha's words of claim, but still unable to.

"Easy, love," Athos soothed as he rubbed lazy circles against Aramis' stomach. He could feel the change trying to come over him as well, but knew his wolf was still far too weak. He probably should not have spoken as he had but he needed Aramis to understand that he still belonged to him. He knew, after having to endure the touches of so many others, that he would be feeling uneasy at the very least. 

"Athos..." Aramis whimpered. He started to say something then stopped and stilled. In everything that had happened, he had forgotten. He could not believe he had forgotten. Yet, his Alpha had said nothing.

"What is it?" Athos asked, noting how still Aramis had gone.

"He...he took my collar," he said, bile flooding his mouth at the memory. "He cut it...cut it from me."

"I know," Athos replied gently. "I saw it on the floor near that cage they were keeping you in. Do not worry, I shall replace it as soon as we are home again. Remember, you are only without the physical sign of my ownership of you. You are never without my hand on your neck."

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” D’Artagnan asked Porthos while they tended to the rabbits. He had always thought Weres healed instantly. To see Aramis still so injured worried him greatly.

“He’ll be fine. He’s already starting to heal. I could see it around his neck, the charring was starting to fade,” Porthos said. “You seem to be handling this pretty well, Whelp.”

d’Artagnan shrugged. “We’ve had a Were or two in Gascony. Though usually they were marauding through the countryside and needed to be put down. I’ve never seen one in control like Aramis is.”

“Aramis is unique alright.”

“You seem to be coping a little better now yourself now,” d’Artagnan pointed out.

“I am and I’m not. I’m still pissed that they kept this from us. We were supposed to be brothers. I wouldn’t have kept something like this from them.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know what all Aramis has had to endure growing up as a werewolf. I mean, what did his parents do during the full moon? Lock him in a cellar? Chain him up? We don’t know what he’s been through. Yes, he should have trusted us but I can understand why he was afraid to. People are afraid of Weres. They’d as soon put one down as look at one. Maybe he just didn’t want to put us in that position.”

“You make sense, Whelp. I know some folks who purposely hunt Weres just for the pelts. They don’t see them as people. I guess I get it. But I still don’t like it.”

Once the rabbits were cooked, Athos carried two over to Aramis, leaving two for Porthos and d'Artagnan. As with the bread, he began pulling off pieces and feeding them to Aramis one by one. He could feel their brothers watching them but he didn't care. He had always found the act of feeding his wolf calming and he knew Aramis found it soothing as well. 

"Do you always do that?" D'Artagnan asked as they ate, indicating Athos' feeding of Aramis. "I mean, I know you don't out in public but at home?"

"Not always," Athos replied. "But it fills a need in both of us, though slightly different. After everything..."

"You need it," d'Artagnan finished, understanding.

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

When they reached the garrison, Athos had to help Aramis dismount. He was still very weak, too weak really. He needed to get him home and quickly. “You two report to the Captain,” Athos said coming to a decision. “He is aware so you may speak freely around him. Just make sure no one else is about.”

“Aren’t you coming?” D’Artagnan asked.

Athos shook his head. “I need to get him home.”

“Alright,” Porthos agreed begrudgingly. “But we’re coming there once we’re finished.”

“That would be unwise,” Athos said as delicately as he could.

“And why’s that?” Porthos challenged.

“Because he has been through a very trying ordeal,” Athos said, leaning in close. He kept his voice even and calm, knowing Aramis would grow agitated if he didn’t. “He has been locked in a cage, starved and abused for days. He needs the safety of home. And right now, that means he and I. Once he has calmed enough, once he realizes the threat has truly passed, you may see him. Until then, it would be in everyone’s best interest if you kept your distance.”

“Sounds to me like you want him all to yourself so you can…”

“Porthos, don’t,” Aramis snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You have no idea what you are dealing with. Athos is right. I need to get my control back. Without it, if you try to provoke him, I… I cannot guarantee how I might react.”

“You would never harm your brothers, Aramis,” Athos soothed. “We all know this. But it would put you under even more strain and that is not what you need right now. I promise you, Porthos, that I will send for you both as soon as I know it will not do him harm in some way.”

“Alright,” D’Artagnan agreed before Porthos could argue further. “Just know that you don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’re your brothers and we’ll stand beside you no matter what.”

Athos got Aramis home as quickly as he could. By the time they reached their home the only thing keeping Aramis on his feet was sheer determination. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Athos felt him sag and quickly maneuvered him into his chair. 

Aramis was so relieved to be off his feet that he didn’t realize at first where he was sitting. As soon as it dawned on him that he was in his Alpha’s chair his eyes widened and he tried to push himself back to his feet. 

“Be still, wolf,” Athos said as he began heating buckets of water for the bath he had promised.

“This is your chair,” Aramis said, shaking his head. “I can’t sit here. It isn’t allowed.”

“It is today,” Athos told him. He stopped then and looked at the other man, taking in the distress in his eyes. “It’s alright, Aramis. Just rest for now. Please.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Aramis subsided at that, unable to refuse his Alpha anything. The fact that this was Athos’ chair, the one that sat atop the wolf pelt still made him uneasy but he did not try to rise from it again.

As soon as Athos had the tub half filled with steaming water he went to his wolf. He had stripped down to just his shirt and breeches as he’d heated the water and now rolled up his sleeves. He saw Aramis’ eyes widen in alarm once more when he knelt in front of him and began removing his boots. Athos hushed him quietly, more with touches and soft whines than with true words. Sometimes Aramis might look like a man, the same as any other, but sometimes it was the wolf he was truly dealing with. Athos understood that this was one of those times so communicated in the manner the wolf responded to best. 

His feet bared, Athos grimaced at the still fading signs of the abuse he had suffered. He knew he would see much more as he laid his wolf bare and steeled himself for it. Getting upset would only cause his wolf to lose what fragile control he managed to maintain. Aramis needed his Alpha to be strong for him. Athos would not let him down.

Methodically, Athos stripped him, removing each piece of clothing with care. It was not the clothing he worried about but he refused to cause his wolf pain. Not in this. That would come later, when he reclaimed what those animals had dared to try to take from him. For now, he just wanted to make his wolf feel clean again.

Aramis was silent as his Alpha went about stripping him. He had been uneasy at seeing his Alpha on his knees for him, but the deep rumble of his voice had calmed him. As he stripped him, he could feel his constant touch. Never once did his Alpha’s hands leave his body. It made the wolf in him finally feel safe.

Sinking into the steaming water was heavenly and Aramis moaned in bliss at the feel of it even as it stung the still healing wounds covering his body. Athos had judged the depth just right, the water rising to within a scant inch of the top of the large tub. 

Athos couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of Aramis’ enjoyment. He let the man simply soak for a bit, letting the heat of the water chase away the stiffness of his muscles. He did not like the fact that he had yet to fully regenerate but knew it was most likely due to exhaustion and his overly long exposure to silver.

“Come morning, all trace of this will be gone, Athos,” Aramis said, his head tipped back and his eyes closed as he luxuriated in the delicious warmth. 

“Forgive me,” Athos smiled. “I know I worry too much sometimes, but you are precious to me, Aramis. To know I came within mere hours of losing you forever…”

“It did not happen,” Aramis said, raising his head and looking at the man. 

“I know. Now, are you ready for me to bathe you or do you wish to simply sit for a bit longer?”

“Now. Please, now,” Aramis said, a hint of desperation in his voice. The nearness of his Alpha helped, as did the feel of his hands, but he could still feel their hands on him, still smell their scents clinging to his body. He remembered when Marsac had touched him, stroking his flesh threateningly. It had filled him with revulsion then as it filled him with shame now.

“Aramis?” Athos called softly. He had sensed the change in the man and felt his stomach twist painfully. He recalled the state his wolf had been in, naked and chained, weakened and virtually helpless. It made him wonder now if more had gone on than Aramis had alluded to. 

“I can still smell them. Still… feel them,” Aramis tried to explain, growing agitated as he sensed his Alpha’s growing alarm.

“Easy, wolf,” Athos soothed. He took up the soft flannel he had brought over along with the expensive scented soap Aramis liked to indulge himself with now and again. Lathering the cloth, he took his right hand and began to slowly and methodically bathe him. He was pleased to see that his wolf was healing even if it was at a much slower rate than normal. It meant his body was ridding itself of the last of the silver poisoning it. 

As Athos bathed him, he thought about simply letting the matter drop. Whatever had been done to his wolf, it would not change his feelings for him. He was not altogether sure Aramis would believe that, though. And he knew for a fact that the wolf would not. No, the wolf would need to be shown that it still had its place. But for that to happen, Athos needed to know.

Athos washed him from head to toe, mindful of the deeper wounds but making sure to clean them just in case any residual silver remained. “Do you want me to wash your hair?” he asked once he had finished with the rest of him.

“Please,” Aramis replied sitting up and sliding a bit forward in the tub to make things easier. 

Wetting his hair down, Athos began by running his fingers through it, carefully working out the worst of the tangles. He lathered it then, keeping his touch gentle, mindful of the fading bruises that covered his face and head. Only after his hair was rinsed and Aramis was once again reclining in the tub did Athos sit back. 

“I know you most likely do not wish to speak of this but as your Alpha I need to know,” he began. 

“To know what?” Aramis stalled, looking away.

“What happened to you,” Athos said. “What they did to you. From the way they kept you in that cage and the marks upon your body, I can guess a lot of it. I need you to tell me the rest.”

“What is it you wish to know?” Aramis asked, his voice sounding defeated in a way that hurt to hear.

“I know they beat you,” Athos began. “I know they used silver to restrain you. That some of the blades they used on you must have been silver as well. You already told us they starved you. What else did they do?”

“Nothing,” Aramis shrugged. “Nothing of any importance at least. Marsac… he enjoyed taunting me, humiliating me. They left me in the cold, chained in that cage. When I…”

“Aramis?”

“When I pissed myself,” Aramis forced himself to go on, “they only taunted me more. Marsac, he put the choke chain on me then. Called it walking his dog. He… he t-touched me… held me… while I… while I pissed in the corner.” Aramis looked down then, his eyes burning with the tears he refused to let fall. He had already shown such weakness to his Alpha. He could not bear the thought of showing yet more.

“Oh my wolf,” Athos said as he reached out and ran his hand through Aramis’ damp hair. “I’m so sorry he hurt you. If I could kill them all over again I would.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

“It does matter. You always matter. You will always matter. Always.”

“He took my collar,” Aramis whispered. He knew Athos was already aware of this, but it was one of the things that hurt the most. 

“I know,” Athos replied. “I’ll get you a new one in a few days. I… I have one more question for you. But I want you to know that the answer, while it will matter to me, it will not make a difference to me. You understand the distinction, do you not, my wolf?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Aramis replied, his voice suddenly thick. 

Athos took a deep breath, knowing it would be best to simply get it over with. “When he took your collar… when he touched you… did he do anything else?”

“Else?”

“Did he mount you?” Athos asked outright.

“No,” Aramis replied, aghast. “I assure you, Alpha, had he done so I would not be here now. I would have killed him or he I.”

“Don’t say that,” Athos told him. “You are my wolf, Aramis. Mine. And there is nothing he could have done to you that would have changed that. Even if he had forced you to mate, it would not have changed things between you and I. You are my wolf and I am your Alpha.”

Deciding they had talked quite long enough, Athos stood. He helped Aramis to his feet then dried him with the softest towel they owned. Taking him by the hand, he led him over to their bed. He pressed him down on it and quickly shed his own clothes. 

“On your belly,” he said when he saw Aramis start to move onto his hands and knees. Being on his belly was the utmost in submission as far as the wolf was concerned. It left him unable to move, unable even to push back into his Alpha’s thrusts. All he could do was submit. 

Aramis shuddered as he crawled onto the center of their bed then laid flat, his legs spread in silent invitation. He spread his arms wide as well, giving himself over completely. He had told Porthos that he submitted to his Alpha in all things but he did not think his friend understood just how deeply that submission ran. Or just how eager Aramis was to offer it.

Athos spent a moment admiring the sight of his lover spread out on their bed. He shoved away the thought of what all he had endured. Now was not the time for such things. Now was for reminding his lover who he belonged to and for reclaiming his wolf. He may not be a Were, but Athos understood his wolf enough to know that he would not feel himself free of Marsac’s taint until he did so. 

Moving up between Aramis’ spread legs, Athos didn’t bother with the oil they normally used. Gentle lovemaking was not what Aramis or the wolf needed. He pushed one of his thighs up high, baring his hole to him. Athos leaned over him and pushed two of the fingers of his free hand deep into Aramis’ mouth. 

Aramis understood and immediately began to lick and suck them, getting them as wet as possible. He felt his cock stir at the thought of what was to come but resisted the urge to grind against the bed. When his Alpha put him on his belly he expected complete and utter obedience. Aramis would do nothing without his direction. 

Athos let Aramis suckle his fingers for much longer than necessary, knowing the comfort it gave him. When he finally drew them out and moved back between the man’s legs he felt him tense as he fought not to move after him.

“So good for me,” Athos praised. He really was surprised at how well Aramis was controlling himself. Considering how strung out he was, Athos had expected him to slip. That he hadn’t made Athos proud yet at the same time, oddly humble. 

Aramis keened softly at the praise, his voice rising when he felt Athos’ wet fingers pressing at his hole. His Alpha paused for a single moment then pressed in with both fingers, forcing his body to yield and turning Aramis’ keen into a weak moan. His Alpha didn’t pause again. He pressed his fingers in all the way and began moving them in and out of him, fucking him open. The burning stretch made Aramis ache in all the _right_ ways and he whimpered when his Alpha pulled them out.

Athos had fingered him until he felt his body start to loosen before pulling out. He leaned over him again and cupped his hand beside his face. “Spit,” he commanded. He saw Aramis’ eyes go wide and dark, flashing red for the barest moment before the man did as he ordered and spit in his hand. 

Athos moved back behind him and quickly slicked his hard cock with the spit in his hand. Spreading Aramis’ legs even wider, he pressed the head of his cock at his barely loosened hole and pushed forward. He could feel Aramis’ body trying to fight him and he snapped his hips forward hard, shoving his cock past the muscles trying to keep him out and into his lover’s body.

Aramis couldn’t stop himself from keening loudly at the forceful intrusion. His hands scrabbled at the bed, opening and closing on the blanket as he whined but he made no other movement. His Alpha held still inside of him, giving his body a moment to adjust then he was pressing forward again, relentlessly forcing his body to open to him. To yield to him. To submit.

“Aramis,” Athos groaned once he was fully sheathed within the other man. He let himself fall forward, covering Aramis’ back, his hands grabbing Aramis’ own and holding them. He stayed like that, fully sheathed inside the man, his body pressing all along him, covering every inch of skin he could. 

Drawing his hips back made both of them moan, the tightness and friction almost too much. When Athos snapped his hips forward driving himself back into the man, Aramis actually yelped. Luckily, the position limited Athos to a degree, keeping him from doing any actual damage. A second later Athos was slowly pulling back again. This time as he snapped his hips forward, he sank his teeth into the top of Aramis’ shoulder hard. Had his teeth been sharper he would have surely broken the skin and it was enough to have Aramis howling as he began to spend into the bedding, his cock trapped beneath him while his Alpha rode him.

Athos knew the moment Aramis lost control and began to spend. If the rhythmic tightening around his cock had not told him then the howl Aramis let out certainly would have. He kept his teeth locked in place and fucked into him as best he could, driving his cock in hard and fast as Aramis howled and shook and spent beneath him.

Knowing he had caused his lover to lose control as he had made Athos’ own cock swell even more. He realized then that he needed this, this reclaiming of what was his, as much as Aramis did. He rode Aramis until he finally stilled beneath him, his strained voice barely keening. With Aramis spent, Athos let go of his own control and with a few sharp thrusts began to spend inside his lover.

Athos collapsed on top of Aramis, letting the man bear his weight entirely. He finally unclamped his teeth, pleased at the moan it drew from Aramis. He stayed there, covering his lover until he felt him relax completely beneath him. Only then, when he knew Aramis was calm, did he draw back. 

Pushing himself back up, his spent cock slipped from his lover’s body. He heard Aramis hiss and ran a soothing hand down his back. He took in the bite mark on his shoulder and nodded, satisfied. It was a deep, dark red, almost black. He had no doubt it soon would be. That was the thing about Weres. They could heal almost any wound instantly, but a mark put on them by their Alpha usually took days to fade. 

Now that he was no longer covering the man, Athos could see him start to grow tense again. Remembering what he had promised after freeing him, he slid down the bed, pushing Aramis’ legs wide as he did so. He took a moment to simply nuzzle him, rubbing his face against his backside, even going so far as to let his beard brush against the back of his bollocks. 

“Alpha,” Aramis gasped, his spent cock twitching where it was still pressed into the damp bedding. 

“Did I not tell you I would take you only to lick you clean and do it again?” Athos reminded him as he spread his cheeks. His lover’s hole was red and swollen, a testament to the roughness of his claiming and Athos leaned down and swiped his tongue over it lightly.

Aramis’ entire body tensed when he felt Athos’ tongue glide across his sore hole. He grabbed at the blankets once more, his hands fisting in them. He knew his Alpha was testing him, testing his control. He had already failed once by spending himself without permission. He would not do so again. 

“Mmm…” Athos moaned, licking over Aramis’ hole again. “You taste so good like this. You should always taste like this.”

“Like… like what?”

“Like sweat and musk and my spend,” Athos told him before diving back in. There was no hesitancy this time. He licked over and around his hole, licking up any trace of his spend before pressing the tip of his tongue inward.

“Athos…” Aramis began to shake when he felt Athos’ tongue start to slowly press inside of him. The man was going much more slowly in this as if savoring every moment of the act. Aramis could understand. If it was him being allowed to lick his spend from his Alpha’s hole he did not know how he would manage it without spending again on the spot. That, however, was not something they ever need worry about. Aramis submitted to Athos, not the other way around. Still, the thought was enough to have him fighting not to writhe against the damp bedding. 

Athos continued his assault with relentless determination. He wanted Aramis hard and aching for him when he took him the second time. While the raging turmoil within the man had calmed considerably, it was not entirely extinguished. Athos vowed to himself that they would not leave this bed until it was. 

“Athos… Athos, please. Can I…”

“What?” Athos asked, pulling back and looking up at his lover when he trailed off. He knew how Aramis got during times like this, when he wore the guise of a man but his mind was tottering between the two. To ask him for anything went against the nature of the wolf. The wolf’s place was to submit. He had no right to ask for more. “Tell me, my wolf, and let me be the one to decide if I shall grant it or not.”

“Can I… Please, can I suck you?” Aramis asked, his mouth watering at the thought of it. The thought of tasting himself, his own musk, on Athos’ cock made his insides twist deliciously. He could feel his cock digging into his belly where it lay trapped beneath him once more. He wanted desperately to snake his hand down, to slip it between is body and the bed and grip himself. 

Going back to Aramis’ hole, Athos spent a bit longer licking and sucking at it before pulling away. His cock was half hard already as he moved up next to Aramis’ head. Sliding his hand into his lover’s hair, he gripped him carefully and pulled his head up, guiding it forward until Aramis could reach him. 

Aramis wasted no time after that. He mouthed up and down Athos’ cock, pleased when it began to harden fully. When he reached the sticky head, he sucked it into his mouth, moaning at the taste of it. It was the taste of them, together, and it fanned the flames of need in Aramis into a conflagration. 

Athos let him suck him until he was fully hard. He held Aramis by the hair then and fucked his mouth, shoving is cock in deep. “Another time, I will put your on your knees at my feet and you will suck me until I spend all over your face.”

Aramis whimpered around the cock in his mouth, nodding his head as much as he could. He wanted that. He wanted it right now, in fact, but he knew his Alpha had other plans for him. That alone was enough to ease the burning within him. His Alpha would take care of it, take care of him. He always had and Aramis knew that he always would. 

“That’s enough,” Athos said as he pulled his cock free of Aramis’ mouth. He pressed his head back into the bed, making it clear that he expected the man to keep it there. This time, he took one of the pillows from the head of the bed as he settled back between his lover’s spread legs. Slipping the pillow beneath his hips, Athos smiled. It kept Aramis on his belly but raised his ass enough so that he could fuck him properly. 

“If you soil my pillow I will be quite cross with you,” Athos warned as he pressed up against Aramis’ still red hole. Like the first time, he gave him a moment to realize what was about to happen then shoved in. Aramis’ body was much more relaxed this time and Athos sank his cock in to the hilt, pulling a deep, low moan from the man.

“Still so tight,” Athos said as he drug his cock slowly back only to snap his hips forward again thrusting it back in as far as it would go. He ignored the moans and whines coming from the man. Aramis did not need coddling right not. No, he needed something else entirely.

Aramis tried to bite back his moans as Athos fucked into him almost brutally. He was still somewhat stretched from before but spend and spit did not make for very good lubricants and Athos had made sure there was very little spend left to be used as such. Had it been any other man attempting to take him in such a manner he likely would have snapped his neck. But this was Athos. Submitting to him was akin to nothing he had ever known before. It was instinctual and Aramis craved it, all of it, even the parts he railed against. 

Making sure he had a good hold on Aramis’ hips, Athos thrust in deep and held himself there. “Change,” he commanded.

“Athos? What…”

“Change,” Athos repeated. He could see the confusion on Aramis’ face and relented. “I have reclaimed you, as it were. I have not yet done so with the wolf. He will not feel this… this taint with Marsac truly gone until I do so. Therefore, change.”

“You want to fuck me as the wolf?” Aramis asked, having a hard time grasping what Athos was trying to tell him.

“Not exactly. I do not wish for you to change completely. Your half form will suffice.”

“Athos, he isn’t… you know how he is. He’s not just going to lay here and take it,” Aramis said, suddenly worried. He could feel the wolf rising closer to the surface the more they spoke. It wanted out. Badly. Aramis was just afraid of what might happen.

“Yes, he will,” Athos told him calmly. “Or do you suddenly doubt my ability as your Alpha?”

“You know I do not.”

“Then change.”

Those words, coupled with the command, the mastery with which they were spoken, were enough to bring on the change whether Aramis wanted it or not. While Athos knew Aramis would revert to his human form at his command, he had no idea he could command him at this level. Athos felt the hips in his hands grow fuller as Aramis began to change. He had witnessed this before, Aramis transforming from man to a half state, but never while naked with his cock buried inside the man. 

As Aramis’ body continued to grow, muscles filling out and course, dark hair beginning to cover him, Athos felt the Were’s body clamp down on his cock hard. He grimaced at the strength of it, and squeezed his hips to soothe him as well as remind him that he was there. When the change ended at last, the pressure on Athos’ cock let up a bit, though not completely. He was surprised by that, having expected his Were-form to be somewhat more accommodating than Aramis’ human one. 

The wolf was a bit confused to find itself suddenly facedown in his Alpha’s bed. He had felt someone inside of him during the change but had realized at last who it was and had subsided. Now, however, it found itself on it’s belly, it’s ass pushed up, begging to be mounted. With a growl, he started to pull his arms down, intent on rising. If his Alpha wanted to mate him, fine. But he would not do so lying on his belly like a dog.

“No,” Athos said sternly when he saw the wolf begin to move.

The wolf looked over its shoulder as best it could and took in the firm look on his Alpha’s face. He growled anyway, refusing to be held down and fucked like this. That he allowed a simple human to mount him was bad enough. To allow that human to…. No. 

Turning its head back away from Athos, the wolf began to rise once more. It barely got it’s paws under it before a hand slammed between its shoulders forcing it back down on the bed. He started to turn his head but a hand fisted in his hair, jerking it back and holding its head in place.

“I said no, wolf,” Athos said menacingly. “I want you, like this, on your belly. You seem to have forgotten just who owns you. Try to move again and I’ll tie you down.” Athos wasn’t sure what exactly his wolf needed, he only knew he needed something more. He knew he had nothing here in their home to bind Aramis with that he could not easily break free of if he wanted to. The crucial part of that though, was whether or not he truly wanted to. Athos had a feeling he did not. 

Marsac and the animals with him had tried to beat and humiliate Aramis and his wolf both into submission. That neither of them had given in was testament to their iron will. But even though Marsac did not succeed, that did not mean he had not left a mark upon them. Athos only hoped that having his Alpha reclaim him, as forcefully as the wolf needed him to, would help him to know that he was safe now and that he had not lost his place in their little pack of two. That his Alpha still considered him Mate.

“Well?” Athos asked, pressing. He knew his wolf needed this. He needed to rebel and to have Athos put him in his place. But he also knew he had been through a very great ordeal. His wolf very well might not be ready for that yet. This would be the turning point. He would either do as Athos ordered or allow himself to be bound. If he did not, if he broken out of those bonds then Athos would know his wolf was not yet ready. That was fine, too. He was a patient man, after all. He could wait.

Aramis turned his head over his shoulder and actually snapped his jaws at Athos, his message clear. Even so, he made sure he was nowhere near the man’s flesh when he did so. One inadvertent nick and Athos could find himself as cursed and reviled as Aramis was. Aramis did not think he could live with such a thing. Still, the wolf refused to be cowed so easily. Not after days spent in a cage, starved and beaten. If his Alpha meant to take him, then he would have to _take_ him.

“Alright then,” Athos said. He leaned over Aramis as he had before, his cock slipping free as he stretched to make up for the greater bulk. Grabbing his wrists, he pulled one arm then the other behind his wolf’s back and secured them with the blue sash lying next to the bed. Using the sash would give the wolf one more reason not to break free, though a small one. 

As his Alpha bound his arms, the wolf snarled and snapped, thrashing his head back and forth as he tried to see what he was doing. He felt the familiar softness of the sash and growled loudly at the realization of what his Alpha had bound him with. 

In no time at all, Athos had his wolf’s clawed hands bound behind his back, leaving him even more helpless. His wolf subdued, Athos settled back between his legs. His cock was still hard and he shoved it back inside his wolf without pause, earning him another snarl. Gripping his hips tightly, Athos began to fuck him then, long hard strokes that ground his pelvis against his wolf’s muscular ass with every thrust. The pillow under his hips lifted them just enough to let Athos fuck into him with ease while forcing his face down into the bed. It was the next best thing to having Aramis riding his cock in his chair only to force the man forward until his face was buried in the pelt on the floor, Athos’ foot holding it there while he pounded him. He knew how much Aramis hated when he did that, when he reminded him of his place in so humiliating a manner. The wolf hated it as well. Yet neither of them fought him on it. They accepted it because, deep down, they craved it.

Having already spent once, Athos knew it would take a while this time. That was fine with him. He planned to leave his wolf a thoroughly fucked out whimpering mess by the time he was done. He only wish he had a knot so he could tie them and truly mate him. He knew it did not matter to Aramis overmuch, but it did to him.

The wolf’s hands flexed in his bonds as this human, his Alpha, rode him. He was fucking him like… like he owned him, his hard cock bottoming out on every thrust. He wanted to howl at the feel of it, but held back, only allowing soft pants and keens to escape. That a mere human was doing this, had put him on his belly and was taking of him whatever he wanted, made his hackles rise in defiance. He felt the bonds around his wrists tighten as his muscles swelled even more but he did not break his bonds. Human or not, his Alpha had put them there.

“Wish I had a knot so I could tie us,” Athos said as he continued fucking him. He had slowed to an almost languid pace, relishing the feel of that tight heat all along his cock. “Would you like that, wolf? Would you like your Alpha to tie you? To bind you to me so you couldn’t move away until I’d had my fill of you? Until I’d filled you so full of my seed your belly swelled with it?”

Aramis couldn’t answer like this so he settled for nodding his head before turning away. It shamed him to want such a thing from a human, Alpha or no. But he did want it. Badly. Before Athos, he’d mated with a few Weres of his kind. He had never tied any of them nor had he allowed them to tie him. He had been saving that for his mate. As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered for his mate was incapable of knotting him.

“I’m going to fill you with my spend, wolf. Then I’m going to lick you clean again. You are not to spend during any of it. Do you understand me?”

Aramis let out a whimpering yip in reply. He understood though he was unsure he could obey. What his Alpha asked of him…. He knew the wolf was much easier to arouse than the man and responded much stronger. But his Alpha had commanded it. He would obey.

Athos began to snap his hips forward harder still, making his mate moan at the power of his taking. He noticed Aramis’ clawed hands opening and closing in his bonds and let go of his hip with one hand to take hold of him. He laced their fingers together, human skin though roughened by battle was still considered fragile compared to those dark, fur-covered claws that could rend a man to the bone in seconds. 

The wolf started at the feel of his Alpha taking his hand. It was so unlike what another Were would do, yet so very like this man. If he could not join with him in the way they both longed for then he would join with him in any way he could. Surprisingly, the wolf found himself returning his Alpha’s grip strongly. He was mindful of both his strength and his razor sharp claws but he held fast to him, relishing the connection.

Athos wished he could lean over him and bite him again as he spent like this, but the wolf was simply too large to allow for it. Instead, he gripped him as hard as he could at both hand and hip and slammed forward as he filled his mate for the second time.

Aramis shuddered at the feel of Athos spending inside of him again. All of his senses were heightened like this and he could feel every twitch of his Alpha’s cock, every spurt of his seed, as it filled the emptiness inside of him. The wolf in him wanted to howl, wanted to rut against the bed until it spent itself again. His cock throbbed beneath him where it lay trapped between his lightly-furred belly and the bed. Even that was almost enough to make him spend. Only his Alpha’s words held him back.

Athos lay half-bent over Aramis as he panted through the aftermath of his release. He had taken his wolf like this once or twice before but never quite like this, never with him on his belly submitting to him out of desire rather than force. Knowing he had to be desperate for release by now, Athos forced himself upright. Reluctantly, he released the hand he was holding then slowly drew back until his cock slid free. 

Unable to resist, Athos bent down and spread his wolf’s cheeks. His hole was an even darker red than before and he could only watch as his spend slowly trickled out of it. Leaning his head down, he swiped his tongue over his hole, licking him clean and tearing a sound from his wolf he did not think he had ever heard before. It sounded like a cross between a yelp, a keen and an aborted howl and it pleased the Alpha in him more than he thought it would.

Aramis thought he would surely go mad. When he felt his Alpha swipe his tongue over his sensitive hole he had tried to scream and howl at once. It had come out a garbled mess but it seemed to please his Alpha and that was all that mattered. If his Alpha thought to use his mouth on him as he had before, he did not know how he would withstand it, not without spending again. Even he had limits and the wolf could only resist his Alpha’s touch for so long.

“Shh,” Athos soothed. He could see that that wolf was becoming distressed and guessed as to the reason why. Athos would not be so cruel as to do that to him again, though. Not now at least. Another time, he would see what it took to milk both his Aramis and the wolf dry, but that was for later. 

The wolf calmed somewhat at Athos’ words but it was hard. Its body was crying out for relief and to have its Alpha’s hands on it, touching it, reclaiming it was more intense than he had expected. It may have been Aramis chained like an animal in that cell, taunted and humiliated time and again, but the wolf had been there too. He had endured every cut, every jibe, every touch that the human side of him had. He had despaired of ever feeling his Alpha’s touch every bit as much as the human side of him had as well.

Moving off to the side, Athos stretched out beside Aramis. He lay with his head next to him, human eyes starting into dark brown eyes he would know regardless of the form Aramis took. Leaning forward, Athos kissed him briefly on the muzzle, making the wolf’s eyes go wide. 

“I love you, my wolf,” Athos said softly. “I love you in whatever guise you choose to take. Your lupine form is as beautiful to me as your human form. Now I believe it is long past time for my wolf to find his release.”

Sitting back up, Athos removed the pillow from beneath Aramis hips then rolled him over onto his back. he left his hands bound behind him, forcing him to arch his back. It left him beautifully on display and Athos drank in the sight of him. 

Like this, Aramis was well over a foot taller than him, his body long and muscular. He was covered in rich, dark fur like the hair on his head, though the fur on his belly and chest was the lightest, letting his nipples peak through. His hard cock is what drew Athos’ attention the most, though. It was fully extended and glistening wet, even the knot peaking out of the furred sheath that normally covered it. It wasn’t quite as thick as Aramis’ human cock but it was longer and the sight of it made Athos’ mouth water.

“You look amazing like this,” Athos said, running his hands up and down Aramis’ thick thighs. “You make me want to straddle your hips and ride you until you fill me with your spend.”

Aramis shook his head at that, the wolf vehemently opposed to the thought of mounting his Alpha. He understood that it was acceptable between humans, but he was not a human and it was not acceptable for him to take his Alpha in such a way.

“Shh. I know. I know,” Athos soothed. “I know you find it wrong. I would never make you do that. But I do plan to make you spend. And your cock looks so good. I think I want a taste.” 

Before Aramis could properly process his Alpha’s words, Athos was leaning down and taking that long, red cock into his mouth. Athos moaned as the taste of his wolf exploded across his tongue. It was musky and primal in a way that Aramis normally wasn’t. He tasted _wild_ and it stirred something in Athos to know that this beautiful, wild thing was his.

Aramis howled, unable to keep it in at the feel of his Alpha’s mouth on his member. He thrust up before he could stop himself, his bound hands limiting his movement. Where a moment ago he had been aching for stimulation, now he was absolutely desperate for it. He could feel his knot swelling and began to yip and keen, his body unable to stay still. His Alpha had never taken him into his mouth before, not like this, not when he wasn’t a man. 

Athos could feel how hard his wolf was struggling to stay still. He could understand after getting him so worked up. But he didn’t relish the thought of his knot getting rammed down his throat on accident so took hold of his hips with both hands, pinning him to the bed hard. The wolf growled at being held down but didn’t try to break his grip. Pleased, Athos redoubled his efforts and took the wolf as far into his mouth as he could, licking and sucking as he went. 

A few moments later, he was rewarded as Aramis began to howl as he started to spend. That his Alpha did not pull back, that he kept him in his mouth and drank him down, only made him spend harder and the wolf bucked up hard, forcing as much of himself into his Alpha’s mouth as he could. By the time it was over, Aramis lay panting on the bed, his body slowly reverting back to it’s smaller human form as Athos unbound his hands and moved up beside him. 

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Aramis managed to sleep through the night without waking. Athos wasn’t sure if it was because the wolf felt safe or if he was just that exhausted from his ordeal. Either way, he took it for a good sign and sent word for Porthos and d’Artagnan to join them for noon meal.

When a knock came at their door over an hour early, Athos tensed. He knew it was probably just an anxious Porthos but he was still on edge from everything that had happened himself. Taking his pistol, he went to the door and nearly sagged in relief at the sight of their brothers.

“You expecting someone else?” Porthos asked eyeing the gun.

“No. You’re just early and my nerves are still somewhat ragged,” Athos admitted.

“I told you,” d’Artagnan said to Porthos then turned to Athos. “I told him being this early wasn’t the best idea.”

“It is fine,” Athos said as he ushered them inside and closed the door. They found Aramis sitting at the table looking like his old self. There were no traces of the horrors he had endured, his body having finally healed them all. 

“You look good,” Porthos said as he sat down beside him.

“I am better. Still a bit weak but my wounds have all healed.”

“That’s good,” d’Artagnan said. “I was pretty worried when you weren’t healing like you should have.”

“Ah, my apologies for worrying you.”

“None of that,” d’Artagnan said. “You are my brother. I will always worry for you especially when you are hurt.”

“So you’re back to normal?” Porthos asked.

“As good as,” Aramis replied. “I am still tired but that will pass by day’s end. I am fine, Porthos. Athos has taken excellent care of me as usual.”

“I can see that,” Porthos admitted. As bothered as he still was by the lies he could not deny the love clearly visible between the two men. It eased something inside of him, casting away many of his worries.

They stayed for most of the day, simply talking and being together. It felt good to reaffirm their bonds, especially to Aramis. He had not wanted to say it but he had still been afraid of his brothers turning on him now that they knew the truth. For them to still stand by his side awed him.

“Well that went well,” Athos said after they had left. 

“Better than I had thought it would,” Aramis admitted. “Porthos does not like being lied to and he would see our keeping this from him as just that.”

“I know but you mean too much to him for him to simply walk away.”

“I hope so. To lose any of my brothers...”

“You won’t.”

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

It was two more days before Athos declared Aramis fit enough to return to duty. The very first thing he did was ask Treville for permission to hunt down Marsac. In the chaos of the rescue the man had managed to escape.

“Very well,” Treville agreed as he eyed the four men before him. Athos had told him that they had informed the other two men of Aramis’ condition. “But be careful. He knows what you are. That puts you at a disadvantage.”

“Perhaps,” Aramis agreed. “But I shall have my brothers with me this time. And this time, he will be the hunted, not I.”

“So where do we start?” D’Artagnan asked after they left Treville’s office. 

“Where they were keeping me,” Aramis replied. “Marsac isn’t going to stray far from the Marquis. If he’s not hiding, he’s probably out hunting for another Were for the next full moon.”

“Does he have some way to tell who’s a werewolf?” Porthos asked.

“No. But he knows of others that are. He met them through me. He might very well go after one of them once he’s done licking his wounds.”

“Then we had better find him before that happens,” Athos said. “The last thing we want is another to suffer as you did. Who knows how they might react once freed.”

Aramis led them back to where he had been shot. He tried to pick up Marsac’s scent and finally managed to find a weak trace of it. Leading his brothers onward, he was surprised when the scent suddenly grew much stronger. Marsac had been through here recently it would seem.

“This way,” he said and turned his horse to follow the scent.

“Careful, wolf,” Athos whispered, wary of a possible trap.

“He won’t expect us this soon,” Aramis replied, understanding Athos’ concern. “But I will be on guard nonetheless.”

They traveled for a short ways before suddenly Aramis’ sharp ears picked up the sound of voices. He signaled his brothers to halt and strained to hear what was being said. It appeared to be a group of about four or five of which Marsac was definitely one. 

“Up ahead. Four or five men,” Aramis said as he dismounted silently.

“Is Marsac with them?” Athos asked.

Aramis nodded and drew his pistols. As quietly as they could, the others dismounted and did the same. Carefully, they made their way closer until only a ring of bushes separated them. Aramis looked at his brothers and gave a swift nod then the four of them were breaking into the clearing and shouting for the men to drop their weapons.

“Kill them!” Marsac ordered, his face going white at the sight of Aramis. 

Aramis didn’t hesitate. He fired both pistols at the men then drew his sword, his brothers doing the same. In less than a minute, it was over. The men all lay dead except for Marsac who had a musket ball through his thigh. Bending down over him, Aramis grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him upward. Drawing back his hand, he transformed it into a claw. It was over with a single slash across Marsac’s neck ripping his throat out. Aramis left him laying in the dirt choking on his own blood.

“Is everyone alright?” Aramis asked.

Porthos and d’Artagnan nodded but Athos was examining a long scratch along his left arm. Something had cut clear through his doublet and shirt to the flesh beneath. The wound looked minor but something about it was troubling Athos. 

A second later, the smell hit Aramis hard enough to send him staggering. A werewolf. One of them had been a werewolf. Was that the one who had given Athos the wound? Oh God, please no! Not that. Anything but that.

“Aramis calm yourself,” Athos said from a few feet away. He could tell his lover was panicking without even looking at him, having figured out what had happened. He was only glad his sword was tipped with silver at Treville’s insistence. 

“Was he...? Did he...?” Aramis tried to ask but words failed him.

“Was he a Were? Yes. Did he scratch me? Again yes. What the outcome will be we will not know for a few more days when the moon rises,” Athos said calmly.

“Oh God,” Aramis gasped. He wanted to be sick. For Athos of all people to have to suffer such a curse...

“Stop it, my wolf,” Athos told him. “What will come will come. There is naught we can do about it save hope for the best.”

“What’s going on?” Porthos asked.

“One of the men I fought was a werewolf. He scratched me. Whether it is enough to turn me remains to be seen.”

“Why would Marsac have a werewolf with him?” D’Artagnan asked.

“I can only assume he planned to trick the man and hand him over to the Marquis,” Athos shrugged. 

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Back home one more, Aramis was pacing. He could not believe he had been so focused on Marsac that he had not noticed another Were so close. He prayed his failure did not end up costing his Alpha his humanity. Would Athos even deign to still be his Alpha after this? Especially if he now bore the same curse as he did?

“Calm down, wolf,” Athos said. 

“Calm down?” Aramis repeated incredulously. “Athos, you know what this could mean for you.”

“I do. But as I said before, there is naught to be done for it. We were not expecting him to be working with another Were. It caught us off guard. I am only glad I was the one to encounter it and not one of our brothers.”

“God,” Aramis shuddered at the thought. “It would have torn them apart before they even knew what was happening.”

“Exactly. I would say, all things considered, we got off lightly. If I am turned, then we shall deal with it. At least now there are others that know of this and will be able to help us.”

“Do you truly think Treville will let Porthos and d’Artagnan act as our handlers?”

“He will not have a choice. Not if he wants us to remain here. Besides, who better than our brothers? They know us better than any other and would be able to control us if necessary.”

“What about... well... us?”

“What about us?”

“Will you still wish to be my Alpha?”

“Aramis, nothing in this world would make me give up being your Alpha. You belong to me and I to you. Nothing will ever sever that bond. It is deeper even than our brotherhood.”

Later that day, a knock came at the door. Athos opened it to find their brothers and Treville on their doorstep. Raising an eyebrow, he stood back and bid them enter before closing and locking the door behind them. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Sir?” Athos asked Treville.

“Porthos and d’Artagnan explained what happened,” Treville said, getting straight to the point. “How are you fairing?”

“As well as can be expected I suppose,” Athos shrugged. “We’ll know in three days. There is not much else to do but wait in the meantime.”

“What do you plan to do if this goes badly for you?”

“What would you have me do? I would remain a Musketeer but if you feel that is not possible then tell me so and we shall make other arrangements.”

“You’ll always have a place here, Athos. You and Aramis both. But do you mean to stay on as his handler?”

“Yes,” Athos said firmly. “I am his Alpha, Treville. You know this. That goes far deeper than merely being a handler.”

“I know it does, but if you’re infected, too...”

“Athos is an Alpha. He will be so as a werewolf as well.”

“And that means what?”

“That his control should be great enough that he will not need a handler per se.”

“I would still need to assign someone to monitor the pair of you, especially on missions,” Treville said.

“We could do it,” d’Artagnan volunteered as he gestured between him and Porthos.

“Are you sure you want to do that? You do know what it means if the Were in question ever loses control?”

“We gotta put ‘em down,” Porthos said sadly. “But that’s what they’ll have us for. To make sure they don’t ever lose control.”

“Very well,” Treville agreed. “In truth I cannot think of any other as well suited for the job and you already know their secret.”

“Thank you, Sir,” d’Artagnan said. “We won’t let you down. Any of you.”

“That, son, was never in question.”

WwWwWwWwWwWwWw

Three days later and the sun was just sinking below the horizon. In a few hours the moon would be up and then they would know. Porthos and d’Artagnan were standing guard outside their lodgings with express orders not to come in no matter what they heard. 

“It’s almost time,” Aramis noted.

“Whatever happens, we’ll meet it together,” Athos assured him as best he could. 

As soon as the moon began to rise, Athos knew he had been infected. His skin began to itch and he felt hot all over. He saw the recognition in Aramis’ eyes and pulled him into a quick embrace. It did not last long, the prickly feeling of his skin making it unbearable in that moment. 

“I’m so sorry,” Aramis told him.

“Not your fault. Just remember, no matter what, I love you.”

“I love you, too. No matter what.” 

Both men knew this could get ugly before the night was over. A newborn Were was temperamental at best, even an Alpha. In fact, being an Alpha would make Athos want to stake his claim a hundred times more. Aramis knew he was likely in for a very rough night.

“Perhaps you should wait outside with the others,” Athos suggested. He could already feel an almost overwhelming urge to dominate his wolf. He could only imagine how much worse that was going to get.

“No, Alpha,” Aramis said as submissively as he could. “We meet this challenge together. Remember?”

“Very well,” Athos agreed. He didn’t really want Aramis away from him. He wanted him here, with him, where he could see and touch and smell him.

As the moon rose higher, Athos stripped off his shirt, the material making his sensitive skin itch even more. His skin felt tight, as if his muscles were too big for it to contain. He could feel his bones starting to ache and knew the change would come over him soon. He only hoped he didn’t hurt Aramis during this first transformation. He had told him that newly minted werewolves tended to be volatile and he was already feeling the need to put his wolf in his place.

Then, all at once, the time was upon them. Athos’ hair began to lengthen and darken on his arms and chest as his joints cracked and his muscles grew. In no time at all he stood towering over Aramis, a transformed Were, his breeches straining at the seems.

“Alpha,” Aramis whispered and ducked his head deferentially. 

Athos growled in response and stalked across the short distance. He wrapped a clawed hand around the back of Aramis’ still human neck and pulled him against him. Holding him there, he began to smell him, taking in all of his mate’s scents for the very first time.

“I am yours, Alpha. Do with me what you will.”

Encouraged by Aramis’ words, Athos pulled back and began to slowly slice the clothes from his mate’s body. He was proud when his mate did not so much as flinch even when his sharp, sharp claws scratched his tender human flesh. Soon, Aramis was standing naked before him and Athos took the time to look his fill, his new eyes showing him details he never would have noticed before.

Aramis knew the thing his Alpha needed to do most right now was hunt. He also knew there was no way the others would led him out of the house, not like this. That left it up to him to somehow alleviate the desire he knew was running through his veins.

Taking a deep breath, he fought his instincts and took a step back and away from Athos. He heard his Alpha’s low growl and whined softly even as he took another step back. He had a second to notice the flash of red in Athos’ eyes then the Were was moving toward him lightning fast.

Before Aramis knew it, he was grabbed and slammed to the ground. He felt the other’s sharp claws dig into his sides and whined again but did not try to get away. He only hoped this would be enough to keep Athos focused. 

Every time that Athos appeared to grow agitated, Aramis would distract him by trying to get up. Every time he did so, the Were would slam him back down, sometimes brutally hard, and hold him there, growling softly. The third time he did it, Athos leaned over him and latched his jaws onto Aramis’ shoulder biting down until he drew blood. Aramis keened at the pain, gladly accepting it in exchange for the mate mark his Alpha had just bestowed upon him.

When the moon began to set, Athos began to grow sleepy. Aramis was thankful for he was exhausted from the long night. As the moon finally disappeared, Athos began to revert back to his human form. Once he was fully human again, Aramis slipped out from under him then carefully lifted him up and put him in their bed. He quickly threw on a pair of smalls and let Porthos and d’Artagnan know that everything had gone fine and that they were free to go before returning to the bedroom and slipping into bed beside his sleeping Alpha.

Athos awoke with a headache. He frowned, not remembering having drunk anything last night. Then suddenly the events of the night came back to him and he sat up with a gasp. He turned to Aramis and flinched at the array of scratches and bruises covering him. Normally, he would have healed already but because they were put there by his Alpha they would likely not heal for days. Remembering stripping him naked, he tried to recall if he had gone any further. He hoped not. He would rather their first time with him like this be as men rather than beasts. 

“You think too loud,” Aramis said, his eyes still closed. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. This will all heal in a few days. You know that. Though the mate mark will leave a permanent scar. I... I hope that was your intention.”

“It was,” Athos assured him. “I only wish I had asked you first.”

“Alpha...” Aramis sighed. “I am yours. I have been since the day Treville named you my keeper. To finally be able to wear your make... I am _proud_.”

“Then I am glad for I have wanted to give you that for ages but never had the means.”

They laid in bed for a while longer simply talking. Aramis filled in the blanks in Athos’ memory and assured him that it was normal to be a bit confused after the first transformation. When their stomachs began to rumble, Aramis made to get up but Athos stopped him.

“Not today, my wolf,” he said. “Today you will let me take care of you.”

“Athos, these marks are nothing,” Aramis scoffed and tried to rise again only for Athos to gently pull him back down.

“They are wounds put on you by my hand. That will never be nothing. Now be a good wolf and let your Alpha take care of you.”

“Very well, but you will have to let me up at some point. Porthos and d’Artagnan will likely be round come this afternoon.”

“Then and only then and only for as long as they are here. Now rest while I see to our breakfast.”

Porthos and d’Artagnan did come around shortly after noon. Athos had no choice but to allow Aramis to dress and greet his brothers. He knew they would not rest easy until they saw that he was whole and mostly unhurt. Luckily, they didn’t stay long and Athos soon had Aramis down to his smalls and back in bed.

“You know, this would be much more comfortable if you were here with me,” Aramis said as he patted the bed.

Athos started to refuse then saw the longing in his mate’s eyes and quickly gave in. He stripped down to his smalls and slid into bed beside his lover and pulled him into his arms. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too. More than words can say.”

Having enough to being coddled like an invalid, Aramis leaned forward and kissed Athos. He was relieved when the man responded almost at once and deepened the kiss, pressing his tongue into his Alpha’s mouth and tasting him. Just as he’d suspected, Athos’ taste had changed. Even in his human form, he now had a hint of wildness about him and it was evident in the taste of is kiss. 

“Aramis, we should not,” Athos said when he finally managed to pull back.

“Why not? I am not hurt and you know it. I want you, Alpha. You did not take me last night...”

“I wanted our first time like this to be as men,” Athos explained. “Are you disappointed?”

“No, only surprised. I tried to keep your mind on the hunt so you would not try to leave but I still expected you to claim me.”

“You did a very good job and I would gladly claim you but I wish to be in control of myself when I do so.”

“Then what is stopping you?”

Athos studied his lover and again saw the longing in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re up to it? I know you are still in some pain.”

“I am more than up to it. The pain is nothing. I get hurt worse than this sparring in the courtyard and you know it. If you do not want to...”

“I want to,” Athos said quickly. Then with a growl worthy of his Were form he rolled them over so that he was on top of Aramis. He saw him flinch but ignored it. His lover was right. His wounds were minor and he could smell how much Aramis wanted this.

“Please,” Aramis mewled. He turned his head and pushed his shoulder upward presenting the raw mate mark to his Alpha. Athos opened his mouth and covered it letting his teeth barely graze the healing wound. The sound Aramis made when he did so was reminiscent to a keen and a howl all garbled together and Athos swiped his tongue over the mark to soothe it.

“Clothes off,” Aramis said unable to wait another minute to feel his Alpha’s naked body. Athos readily complied and soon they were both naked and writhing against each other. 

“We must stop this or I will spend myself,” Athos said. Aramis stilled at once though he did not want to. But spilling between themselves wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted his Alpha to lay claim to him. He wanted him inside.

“Get the oil.”

Athos nodded and reached over to the bedside table for the pot of oil. He moved back between Aramis’ legs and spread them wide. Slicking two of is fingers, he pressed them at Aramis’ hole and slid them inside. 

Aramis moaned at the feel of Athos’ fingers pushing inside of him, stretching him. When he began to move them in and out he started to pant his body already on fire for the other man. Soon, two fingers became three and Aramis was mewling and keening as Athos fucked him open with his hand. 

Finally, Athos slid his fingers free. “I want you on your hands and knees,” he said as he slicked his cock. Aramis was quick to comply and Athos once again moved up between his legs. He reached out and pushed down on his shoulders and Aramis immediately went down onto his elbows, thrusting his ass in the air even more. 

“Better,” Athos said earning another mewl from Aramis as he spread his cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock up against his loosened hole with the other. Slowly, he began to push in relishing the feel of Aramis’ tight, hot body encompassing him. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt then he simply held himself there for a few moments enjoying the feel. 

“Alpha, please,” Aramis begged. He was shaking with the strain of not moving, knowing instinctively that was what was wanted of him. 

“Yes, my wolf,” Athos said. “Time to claim what’s mine.” With that, he pulled back almost all the way then slowly slid in again. He knew Aramis expected hard and fast but that was not going to happen today. Today was for slow and loving as he claimed every inch of him.

They made love for long minutes until Athos felt himself getting close. He was surprised to feel the base of his cock expanding and realized it was his knot forming. The one thing he could never give his lover he now had the ability to. He was beyond elated.

“I’m going to knot you, my wolf,” he told him. He felt Aramis go still and gave him a moment to take in his words.

“Oh please,” Aramis begged. “Please, Alpha. Knot me.”

Hearing Aramis’ consent, Athos began to move again, faster this time. He began to press his growing knot against his hole with each inward stroke until finally, he pressed it inside. Aramis keened at the feel of that knot spreading his hole wide and plugging him up as it continued to grow.

In no time at all it seemed, Athos’ knot had swelled to bursting and he shoved in as far as he could and began to spend. He heard someone keen and realized it was him this time as he filled his mate with his seed, his knot making sure none of it escaped.

Aramis thought he was in Heaven. His hole was spread wider than it had ever been and he could feel his Alpha’s seed filling him up. It seemed like Athos would never stop spending and that was fine with him. He would take everything the man had to give.

Finally, it was over and Athos slumped down over Aramis’ back. He didn’t stay that way for long, soon leaning up and carefully maneuvering them over onto their sides while they waited for his knot to go down. 

“Was it what you hoped?”

“No,” Aramis replied. “It was so much more.”

End.


End file.
